


A Dett Repaid

by Daovihi



Series: People are dying and everything's on fire because of a sex toy [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Attempted assassination, Blood, Burns, Canon Autistic Character, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Dancing in the Rain, Emotional Roller Coaster, F/M, Fireworks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Minor Character Death, Multi, Murder, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Pining, Singing in the Rain, Someone Help Her, Trauma, accidental poisoning, alcohol mention, attenpted poisoning, dett denies his feelings a lot, detts gonna suffer, dont worry its not graphic, gratuitous cameo, hoo boy, milly is basically kermit flailing the entire time, prostitute death, thats not graphic either it doesnt go into detail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-11 09:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 71,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10462191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daovihi/pseuds/Daovihi
Summary: A rewrite of Blood and Wine. What happens when Dettlaff does one thing differently? What happens when just a few details are changed?A prequel to the other fics in this series. This can be read as a stand-alone, and reading the other fics in this series is not required.





	1. Chapter 1

Dettlaff whistled as he whittled a dragon statuette with his claws. He blew on it to dust it off, then he went to work carving out the details.

 

"Put in some grooves, poke in little pupils, add some scales… aaaand done!" Dettlaff dusted off the dragon and held it up to the light. It was perfectly carved, without a single mistake. Dettlaff was quite proud of this particular toy. He took some wrapping paper and a ribbon from two piles, and he wrapped up the toy. "I bet little Timmy would love this."

 

Dettlaff picked up the present and went downstairs. He put on his coat and shoes and then walked out the door into the beautiful outdoors. In Beauclair, the sun was shining unimpeded, the people were friendly, and the streets even smelled faintly of flowers. Dettlaff closed the door behind him and headed out to Timmy's house.

 

"Good morning, toy guy!" A little girl waved her arm wildly in the air.

 

"Good morning!" Dettlaff automatically responded.

 

"Whatcha dooooooin'?"

 

"I'm delivering something to Timmy."

 

"Can I see?"

 

"Ha ha, sorry, but no. I want this to be a super secret surprise for Timmy, and I can't risk anyone telling him what it is. So be a good girl and don't tell anyone about this." Dettlaff held a finger to the girls mouth to indicate he wanted her to be quiet about this.

 

"Oooh, so I'm a spy?" The girl ignored the finger.

 

"Yes, I guess for this purpose you are." The girl squealed and bounced around excitedly. She ran over to her parents, who were keeping an eye on her from afar.

 

"Mama, Papa, I'm a-!" She clamped her hands over her mouth. Dettlaff chuckled. He absolutely adores children.

 

"Goodbye!" Dettlaff said to ensure he didn't make a social faux pas by leaving before the conversation was deemed over.

 

"Bye-bye!"

 

Dettlaff continued his journey. He passed by a kind baker advertising his business.

 

"Ah, good morning! Would you like to try some of our bread? I'm using a new recipe my love came up with."

 

"No thank you, sir. I already ate breakfast." Dettlaff held up a hand to stop the baker.

 

"No, no, please. You can have a piece for free." The baker guided Dettlaff inside. "Honey! Tear a piece off the sample bread for Dettlaff, would you?"

 

His husband looked up from his work, several cookies laying on some wax paper, some of them decorated with icing. "Just a second, love." He finished icing the cookie he was working on before Dettlaff walked in. He put the bag of icing down and reached for the sample bread. He tore off a generous piece and reached over to Dettlaff, who took the bread from his hand and ate it.

 

"That tastes delectable. Thank you for sharing it with me." Dettlaff said once he finished eating.

 

"Thank YOU! I've been experimenting with a few recipes lately, and I wasn't sure if people would like it, so hearing you say that makes me feel so much better." The cookie baker beamed. "Do you wish to know what the main ingredient is?"

 

"Well, since you brought it up…"

 

The cookie baker repressed a grin. "Poop."

 

"…WHAT?!"

 

The bakers burst out laughing. "Oh, Dettlaff, you should have seen your face!" The man that had stood outside was hunched over, breathing hard from laughing too much.

 

"So it's not fecal matter?" Dettlaff asked.

 

"Lebioda, no. I would never let anything of the sort touch my food. The bread is just made of what normally goes into bread, plus a few spices sprinkled on top." The cookie baker turned around and bagged something Dettlaff couldn't see. He reached over the counter and help the bag to Dettlaff. "Here, for putting up with my immaturity."

 

"I couldn't possibly-"

 

"No no no, I insist. You've always been a good customer, and you tip generously. You've already bought this ten times over."

 

"Well, thank you. I would love to stay and chat, but I need to deliver something." Dettlaff thumbed the present.

 

"Is it for Timmy? His parents bought a few cookies earlier. They always buy cookies on their kids' birthday." The previously advertising baker remarked.

 

"Yes, in fact, it is. I'm giving him a statuette of a dragon. He loves dragons." Dettlaff smiled when he remembered all the times Timmy played with his imaginary friend, Borch the Dragon.

 

"Well, don't let us keep you here. Have a nice day!" The cookie baker waved goodbye to Dettlaff.

 

"Same to you. Goodbye." Dettlaff told the bakers.

 

"Goodbye!" The other baker replied.

 

After an awkward moment where Dettlaff and the advertising baker left the bakery at the same time, Dettlaff managed to get away from him. He opened the bag and sniffed it. The distinct scent of garlic wafted into Dettlaff's nose.

 

"I see the gods have a sense of humor." Dettlaff commented to no one in particular. He closed the bag and kept walking. Soon, he approached a small, quaint building. "I hope Timmy's parents don't see me…" Timmy's parents do not trust Dettlaff. They see his slightly robotic way of holding a conversation, and they see his "odd" movements whenever he stims in public, and they see his outbursts whenever he gets overwhelmed, and so they see him as a freak, a weirdo that shouldn't be trusted.

 

Dettlaff turned into fog and floated into the second story window. He easily passed through the crack that was formed from the window being open. Dettlaff solidified back into his human form, feet not making a sound as they touched the flooring.

 

"Sir?" Timmy noticed him almost immediately.

 

"Shh, your parents can't know I'm here." Dettlaff procured the present. "Here. I have something for you. Happy birthday."

 

Timmy took the present from Dettlaff and carefully unwrapped it, clearly intending to save the wrapping paper for later. The paper revealed a fearsome dragon, with deadly razors for teeth, large wings capable of knocking down houses just by flapping, and long, sharp claws, perfect for carving up humans.

 

"It's so cool! Thank you so much!" Timmy embraced Dettlaff in a surprisingly tight hug.

 

"You're welcome…" Dettlaff hesitantly wrapped an arm around Timmy. He didn't like hugs. He needed to find a way to get Timmy to stop. "Would you like some garlic bread?"

 

"Yes please, thank you!" Timmy broke the hug and held his hands out, then put them down after a thought.

 

"You're such a polite man. Don't ever lose your manners." Dettlaff took out the garlic roll and broke in into two. He gave the big half to Timmy, who ate it with gusto. "Where are your parents, by the way?"

 

"They're out. They should be back any minute."

 

"Then I guess I should take my leave then. Goodbye, Timmy. And remember to wipe your face."

 

"Goodbye, sir! I will!" Timmy waved Dettlaff goodbye as he turned into fog and left.

 

\-------

 

Dettlaff cursed when the rain started pouring down on him. He took off his coat and threw it above his head. He looked around for shelter, and found it in a small gazebo, where a male human was already sitting. Dettlaff ran over to under it and quickly sat down.

 

"Get caught in the rain too?" The human asked without turning to look at him.

 

"Yes, unfortunately."

 

"Well, it tends to pour buckets when it rains here. We might be stuck here for a while."

 

"Pours… buckets?" Dettlaff was immediately confused by the human's choice of words.

 

"It's a saying. It means that the rain will be heavy, and possibly even become torrential." The human explained. "Nice jacket. Where did you have it made?"

 

It took Dettlaff a second to process the change in subject. "Oh, thank you. One of my friends made it for me. I'm afraid they're not a tailor."

 

"Ah, that's a shame. Tell me, do you play gwent?"

 

"I've never played it before, but I'm willing to try. I've heard good things about it." Dettlaff sat down at the table built into the gazebo.

 

"Lucky for you, I've got a spare deck with me. Let me explain the rules…"

 

\-------

 

"And I win again! Are you sure you aren't letting me win?" Dettlaff joked.

 

"I'm not, I swear!" The man, who Dettlaff had mentally assigned the creative name Noble, held up his hands in mock-surrender. He was lying through his teeth, as he continually let Dettlaff win every game, despite placing monetary bets on nearly all of them. He always had a thing for black-haired men. "You're just really good at this!"

 

"In that case, maybe I should enter that gwent competition that's coming up in a few months."

 

"Oh, no! You're good, but you're still a beginner! You made several rookie mistakes in that last game." Noble explained what Dettlaff did wrong. Dettlaff listened to him, paying great attention. He wanted to learn more about this game that has been popular among mortals lately, and Noble's voice sounded so pleasant. Dettlaff could listen to it all day. "Did you understand all of that?"

 

"Huh?" Dettlaff realized he had spaced out. "Oh, yes, I think I did. Let's take a break from gwent."

 

The two looked out the gazebo to see the storm raging on. It had been like that for a little over an hour.

 

"It is like you said. It is "pouring buckets" out there." Dettlaff commented to fill the silence.

 

"It is. I love this kind of weather. If I wasn't worried about getting my new shoes wet, I would sing and dance out there."

 

"Wouldn't you get sick?"

 

"More often than not, I do, but I simply love the feeling of rain on my skin. I can't get enough."

 

"I don't know how people can stand it. It feels so weird and bizarre, although admittedly I'm a bit hypersensitive to it."

 

"So you've never danced in the rain?" Noble raised his eyebrows. He thought everyone has danced in the rain at some point.

 

"No, never."

 

Noble ripped off his wide-brimmed hat and shoes and put the hat on Dettlaff's head. "Come on, this is something you need to experience at least once in your life." He took Dettlaff by the hand before he could protest and led him out of the gazebo. Once they were out in the rain with plenty of space to move around, Noble took Dettlaff's other hand and sung for all the world to hear. Noble guided Dettlaff into an upbeat, casual dance for two.

 

They spun around the area, laughing in joy. Dettlaff had to admit that dancing in the rain was pretty fun, now that his face was protected from the rain and his hands had a consistent pressure on them thanks to Noble. He started singing along with Noble, creating an improvised duet.

 

"I'm siiinging in the rain!" Noble started off. He walted with Dettlaff all across the cobblestones.

 

"I'm siiinging in the RAIN!" Dettlaff repeated with different notes. He pulled Noble closer to him.

 

"What a GLORIOUS feeling!" They sung together.

 

"I'm haaappy again!" Noble spun Dettlaff around. Dettlaff giggled as he spun. "I'm laaaughing at the clouds! So daaark up above!"

 

Dettlaff tripped on some loose cobblestones, sending him falling. Before he could hit the ground, Noble took his arm and his waist and stopped his fall, inadvertently pulling him into a dip. Dettlaff adjusted the hat he was wearing and blinked, then sung again.

 

"The suuuun's in my heart, and I'm ready for love!"

 

"For looooove!" Both sang at the same time.

 

They laughed, and they sung, and they danced until they were both soaking wet and the storm had reduced itself to a light drizzle. The sun even peeked out of the clouds.

 

"Well, that was fun, but I think it's time I got going. Can't dance in the rain if there is none, after all." Noble broke away from Dettlaff and gathered up his gwent cards and shoes.

 

"That's a shame. I was hoping we could dance some more." Dettlaff mourned the loss of contact.

 

"Hopefully, next time it rains, we will find each other, and we'll dance and sing tpgether again. Goodbye!" Noble waved as he walked away.

 

"Goodbye…" Dettlaff walked away too. He was in a significantly better mood. He even felt a bit playful.

 

\---------

 

Dettlaff walked down the street, splashing puddles as he went along. He felt like a child again! He was so happy and carefree! He had met someone who had showed him a new kind of joy: the kind that came with singing and dancing in the rain!

 

Dettlaff grinned like an idiot when he thought about that someone. He was so handsome, and that voice! That voice made Dettlaff weak at the knees.

 

No! What was he thinking? His Rhenawedd was still missing! He couldn't just fall in love with someone else!

 

Dettlaff growled and shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was having a good day, and he didn't want his own negativity to ruin it. He jumped into a puddle, creating a large splash that got an unlucky passerby wet.

 

"Hey, apologize for that!" An arrogant noble waved their fist at Dettlaff.

 

"No!" Dettlaff laughed. He sped off towards his home, where he could finally dry off.

 

He walked in and hung his soaking wet coat on the coat hanger when he realized he was still wearing Noble's hat.

 

"Maybe this will serve an excuse to invite him in..." Dettlaff took off the hat, but did not hang it on the coat hanger. He went upstairs and put the hat on an empty spot on his desk, where he could repair it if need be, and force him to maybe have Noble inside his home while he fetched the hat.

 

He took off his wet clothes and threw them to the floor. He rifled through his clean clothes until he found a set that matched together, and he put that on. Dettlaff relished in the feeling of having new clothes on for a little bit, then he went downstairs.

 

He found a letter by his door, presumably having been slipped in through the mail slot while he was gone. There were no marks on the envelope, other than a few water stains.


	2. Chapter 2

Numb.

He just felt… numb.

He wanted to scream, to destroy something, to light his rage on fire and burn all of Beauclair.

But Dettlaff wasn't angry. He was numb.

Dettlaff stared at the letter until it felt like it was burning his fingers. The same letter that told some bad people took HIS Rhenawedd.

Dettlaff wanted to cry, to curl up into a ball and die, to sob his heart out until he drowned Beauclair in his tears.

But Dettlaff wasn't sad. He was numb.

Dettlaff got into his bed and curled up into a ball. He stared at the charcoal portait of his beloved. He vowed that he would save her. He only needed to find out where she was located without her kidnappers discovering his intentions.

Dettlaff closed his eyes and fell asleep. Only when he dreamed of what could happen to Rhenawedd did he cry.

\--------

There was a rapping at his door. Dettlaff groaned and covered his head with a pillow.

"Dettlaff? Are you in there?" A pause. "We made some pie for you…"

"Go away." Dettlaff groaned out.

"Are you okay? We haven't seen you in a while."

"I'm fine. I'm just not feeling well." Technically, the second part wasn't a lie. Dettlaff truly didn't feel good ever since…

Fuck, he was crying again.

"Can we come in? We have some pie for you, and it would be a shame if it went to waste…"

"Yes, just give me a few minutes." Dettlaff got up and stretched for the first time in days. He changed into something appropriate for having guests over and wiped the tears from his face. Dettlaff went downstairs and, pausing to smooth out his hair, opened the door for the neighborhood bakers. "Hello."

"Hey." The baker holding the box spoke first. "It's pear pie… We used Koviri pears for this one…"

Dettlaff forced a smile onto his face. "Thank you. I appreciate it." Dettlaff took the pie from the bakers and set it down on a nearby table.

"Are you alright? No one's seen hide or hair of you for a week." The other baker asked.

"I am fine, thank you for asking about me. I'm just… dealing with a few personal issues right now. Don't worry about me."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No thank you. It's none of your concern." Dettlaff wished that they would just shut up about this. He clearly didn't want to talk about it, so why couldn't they just leave him alone?!

"Well, if you change your mind, you can talk to us at any time. We're friends. We wouldn't just leave you to suffer all on your lonesome."

"At the very least, talking to us about it would make you feel better."

"Thank you. I will keep that in mind." Dettlaff suddenly wished that he could just tell them about…

About…

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

\--------

Dettlaff trembled as he walked on. He didn't want to kill, didn't want to go back on the promise he made to Regis, but he had no choice.

If he did this, he could save Rhenawedd, or so he told himself.

\-------

Blood.

So much blood.

Blood everywhere.

Blood and tears mixed together as Dettlaff worked.

\-------

_Dear Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy,_

Dettlaff pondered for a bit on how he should begin his letter.

_How are you? It's been a while since we last_

He searched for the right word.

_communicated. How goes the search for Geralt? I know Velen can be a terrible place to be for ordinary folk, so it must be absolutely horrid for you. Is it true that there are drowners and fecal matter everywhere?_

Dettlaff considered telling Regis about his… predicament, but thought better of it.

_I am fine, in case you were wondering. Everything is good here in Touissant. It was sunny yesterday._

Dettlaff scribbled a few more paragraphs into his letter. They were about various happenings in Dettlaff's life, and included questions about Regis'.

_Anyway, I hope you find Geralt soon. If you can, could you bring him to Touissant? I would very much like to meet the man that you fell in love with. If he managed to make you literally swoon for him as you say, then he must be a very compassionate man. I bet we could become great friends if we met._

_Wishing you good luck,  
Dettlaff van der Eretein_

Dettlaff folded the letter and slipped it into a letter with Regis' temporary P.O. box address already written on it. He licked the shiny, dry adhesive on the inside of the envelope and sealed it by pressing the adhesive to the outside of the envelope. Dettlaff got up and took the letter with him. He left his house and walked over to the post office and deposited his letter in the "TO SEND" box.


	3. Chapter 3

_"It's good to see that business is going well for the young bootblack."_ Dettlaff thought as he waited. There was a line behind him for getting your boots polished by the local bootblack. A short line, but a line nonetheless. Dettlaff was proud of the young entrepreneur.

"All done. Next!" The bootblack called out. The person in the seat got up, paid the young boy a tip, and walked away. Dettlaff walked forward, intending to take a seat, when some rude guy shoved him out of the way.

"Excuse me." The stranger said in a pompous voice. He took a seat in the recently vacated chair. "I shall only take a moment."

Rage filled Dettlaff. How dare he?! Skipping in line and shoving people is bad enough, but after what he's had to do!!! After what he's going through!!!

"You jumped the queue, sir." The man in the opposite seat not-so-subtly pointed out to the rude guy.

"But Count, sir! You must understand… I've a meeting… The Council…"

Dettlaff's claws extended on their own. Dettlaff cursed and turned to hide them. Fog emitted from his body as he struggled to keep his emotions in control. _"No no no, not in public, not in public…"_ He repeated in his head. He took a few steps away from the situation.

"Sir! You were next! Please, take a seat!" The nice man called out to Dettlaff. He turned to the rude guy. "This gentleman was here first. Step down, or you shall regret it..."

Dettlaff took a few deep breaths and turned towards the stand, hiding his hand behind his back. As he walked towards the stand, then rude man stepped off.

"Ahhh… failed to realize he was your friend, Count." He apologized as he ran away with his tail in between his legs.

Dettlaff sat down, still hiding his claws. When he got himself settled, he realized that the nice man who defended him was the same man he danced in the rain with.

"Ah! I believe we've met before. My name is Louis de la Croix, we danced in the rain together that one night, do you remember?"

Dettlaff paused for a few seconds to let his claws retract. "I do." He removed his hand from its hiding place behind its back and took Louis' hand in a firm handshake. "My name is Dettlaff van der Eretein."

\-------

"Thank you for returning my hat. I was wondering where it went." Louis adjusted his hat using a hand mirror Dettlaff had laying around.

"You're welcome. I took the liberty of stitching up a hole in it."

"Ah, thank you." Louis moved the mirror to the side to look at the recently stitched hole. He realized something was off, and it wasn't the stitches. He couldn't place his finger on it, though. "Would you like to accompany me to lunch?"

"Yes, I would like to. Just give me some time." Dettlaff went upstairs and groomed himself. He picked out a nice jacket, the dark green one that applies mild pressure to his torso, and exchanged his usual black overcoat for it. Once Dettlaff determined he looked suitable enough for a day out, he put it on and went back downstairs.

"I am ready. Are we going out to eat?" Dettlaff asked.

\--------

"Welcome to the Pheasantry, sirs! How many seats do you need?"

"Just two." Louis held up two fingers.

"Ah, you came at the right time! A table for two opened up not ten minutes ago." The waitress walked to a table, with Louis and Dettlaff trailing behind. She sat the men down and placed menus in front of them. "I will be back soon to take your orders." The waitress left, leaving her customers to their own devices.

The setting of the restaurant was simple, yet quite romantic. A single rose in a long, slender vase sat in the middle of the table next to a short candle emitting the scent of vanilla. A band played slow, ambient music. And Louis…

Louis looked absolutely beautiful.

Dettlaff hid his face in his menu. He scratched his nose as he glanced over the menu. "Is there a price range you want us to stay in?"

"Nope! I just feel like splurging today. Ha ha!" Louis laughed.

"Ah…" Dettlaff went back to examining the menu, glancing at Louis every so often. Once he determined what he wanted, he and Louis put down their menus as restaurant etiquette states. After a thirty-second delay, the waitress came back with a notepad.

"Are you ready to order?"

"I would like to have the chicken sandwich with fries and a bottle of Est Est." Louis requested.

"Oh, I, um…" Dettlaff fumbled a bit. "I would like the baked potatoes with garlic bread and strawberry lemonade."

"Alright, will that be all?" The waitress asked.

"Yes." Louis and Dettlaff said simultaneously.

"I will bring out your drinks shortly, and your food in about ten to twenty minutes." The waitress left, presumably to deliver their orders to the chef and to serve other tables.

Louis and Dettlaff were finally alone. They gazed into each other's eyes, mesmerized by the colors in their irises. Dettlaff caught himself staring and turned away, hiding his blushing face with his hand.

"So… strawberry lemonade?" Louis filled the silence.

"I can't have alcohol. Trying to kick a separate addiction. I might relapse if I get intoxicated."

"I was addicted to fisstech once. Let me tell you, it's a long, hard road, but once you kick your addiction your life will improve. Significantly." Louis patted Dettlaff's shoulder sympathetically.

Dettlaff let out a quiet sigh of relief. It wasn't everyday you met a human who understood what addiction is like. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Louis let his hand fall from Dettlaff's shoulder to his elbow. At that moment, the waitress came back with their drinks. "Thank you, miss."

Dettlaff took a big gulp of his lemonade as soon as it was put in front of him. He almost choked a little when he drank too much, but luckily he didn't spill any.

Louis stopped touching Dettlaff and poured himself a glass of wine. "So, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a toymaker and freelance carpenter. I often give away toys for free, however, so I don't make much money."

"Oh, that's so sweet! What kind of toys do you make?"

"Mostly wooden toys, such as carriages and statuettes. How do you make a living?"

"The same as most nobles in Touissant. I own a vineyard, and I produce wine." Louis finished his glass and poured himself another one.

"Which one?"

Before Louis could respond, the waitress came back with their plates of food. "Let me know if you need anything else." She set the food down on the table and walked off.

"Oooh! My food!" Louis dug in, and Dettlaff did the same.

"Mm, thish ish really good!" Dettlaff pushed through a mouthful of potato.

"I know, it's one of the best restaurants in Beauclair." Louis picked up his sandwich with two hands and bit into it.

Dettlaff finished chewing and swallowed before speaking. "I can see why you chose this place."

"Eh, I personally prefer breakfast restaurants, myself." Louis replied.

"So do I."

The two of them ate in silence, with only the sounds of cutlery against a plate filling the air. Dettlaff wiped his mouth with a napkin when he was done and set his fork and knife down.

"So about the bill…" Dettlaff started.

"Don't worry. I'll pay." Louis interrupted.

"No no no, let's split the bill. I have the money."

"Please, I insist. You can pay next time." Louis bargained as the waitress brought over the bill. He immediately slapped a coin purse into her hands. "Keep the change."

"Oh, thank you, sir." She went into the back to count the money.

"She's going to be so happy once she realizes how much of a tip I gave her." Louis commented.

"Once she's done counting, we should probably head home." Dettlaff realized after he said that that that could be interpreted as an innuendo. "To our respective homes."

"Yes, we probably should. Do you wish for me to escort you home?" Louis started gathering up his things.

"Since you asked, yes, I do. I haven't grown weary of your company yet." Dettlaff got up. Louis did the same.

In the restaurant, a woman squealed in delight. Finally, she could afford a pair of new shoes! And decent quality ones too, for once!

\--------

"So, I guess we part ways for now." Louis sighed.

"You know my address. You can write me a letter any time." Dettlaff not-so-subtly hinted.

"I think I'd rather spend time with you in person." Louis leaned closer to Dettlaff and tooks his hands into his own.

Dettlaff contemplated his situation. On one hand, he could finally find love again after Rhenawedd. It has been years since she went missing, after all. On the other hand…

"I am sorry, but due to current circumstances I cannot be in a romantic relationship. I enjoy your company, but it's for the best if we keep our relationship platonic." Dettlaff pulled away with some hesitation.

"Oh…" Louis visibly deflated. "Well, at least we're friends now!"

"Yes, we are!" Dettlaff smiled, despite having just rejected someone he was into.

"How about we see each other Saturday? In the same gazebo where we met?"

"I would love to!"

"Then Saturday it is! See you then! Bye"

"Bye!" Dettlaff waved Louis goodbye, then he went inside his home, where he could rest. Social interaction was draining for him, even if he really enjoyed it.


	4. Chapter 4

Regis ran his hands through his hair. He was tempted to tug on it, but that was a habit he was trying to break out of. Dettlaff always said that was the reason Regis is balding.

"Well, thank you for your time, sir. Pleasure to meet you." Regis shook hands with the barkeep.

"Make sure you write to me when you get the chance!" The barkeep winked at Regis, making him slightly uncomfortable.

"Maybe I will. Maybe I will." Regis lied. He had no intention of pursuing a romantic relationship with this person. His heart yearned for someone else. Regis exited the bar and took a deep breath of fresh air. Well, as fresh as city air could be. He tightened the belt around his waist to relieve the uncomfortable feeling of someone flirting with him. "Another dead end. At this rate, I'll never find Geralt." Regis put his face in his hands. He wished he could just see Geralt again. "What should I do? What can I do without simply wandering aimlessly?" Regis thought for a little bit. "Well, I guess I can check my mail. I'm in the area, anyway."

With that, Regis turned into a bat and flew away, scaring several drunkards in the process.

\-------

Regis frowned and reread the letter. He had just received a letter from Dettlaff, who had written him several weeks ago. Letters from Dettlaff were perfectly normal, except this one wasn't. Regis couldn't figure out why this one letter happened to set off his instincts, however.

One paragraph stood out to him in particular:

_I am fine, in case you were wondering. Everything is good here in Touissant. It was sunny yesterday._

Regis examined it long and hard. Suddenly, it hit him. The paragraph was worded in a way that made it sound like Dettlaff was trying to convince himself everything is alright. Regis reread with that knowledge in mind. The letter was worded oddly, inconsistent with Dettlaff's writing style. Something isn't right.

Dettlaff is in trouble.

"Hang on, Dettlaff. I'm coming for you." Regis packed up his stuff and immediately took off for Touissant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short. I promise I'll have a longer chapter up soon. In the meantime, bask in the glory that is Regis finally making his appearance in this story.


	5. Chapter 5

Dettlaff couldn't believe his eyes. Louis, wearing ragged clothes fit for a beggar, stumbled out of the seedy bar, apparently having been kicked out.

"Eyyyy? Whatchu lookin' at?" Louis yelled and threw a beer bottle at Dettlaff, which he caught in his hand. "Fuck off!"

Now that Dettlaff had taken a closer look at the man in front of him, he could see that he was not Louis. He was just some drunkard that greatly resembled him.

"Sorry, sorry. I thought you were someone else." Dettlaff put down the bottle and walked away, not looking for a fight.

"'Eahhh, you better run! I could kick yer pretty boy arse! An' I could prob'ly-"

Dettlaff covered his ears. He did not want to hear about the various things the drunkard thought he could do to his behind. He walked faster, trying to put some distance between himself and the drunk guy.

\---------

Dettlaff sighed sadly as he read the letter from his blackmailers. So he would have to kill again. This time, he needed to kill a poor prostitute along with his target. Dettlaff extended his claws and examined them, making sure they're sharp. He decided that they were nice and acute, and retracted them.

Dettlaff took what he would need and double-checked to make sure he had everything. Once he was satisfied, he put everything in his pockets and left his home.

\---------

"I'm sorry…" He muttered to the woman before he snapped her neck. He truly was sorry she needed to die.

\---------

"I'm sorry…" He muttered to Count du Lac before he stabbed him in the gut. He shifted him around until du Lac was in the position required by the blackmailers. He took du Lac's sword, as was directed.

\---------

Dettlaff watched as the bandits he hired finally found the body. They reported it to a patrol of knights.

\---------

As Dettlaff opened the door, a wine bottle was thrown against the wall dangerously close to Dettlaff's face.

"MOTHER FUCKING-!!!" Louis stopped himself when he heard Dettlaff yelp. "Dettlaff… I'm so sorry about that, I… Can I have a few minutes?"

"Of course." Dettlaff shut the door and gave Louis some privacy.

A few minutes later, Louis came out, eyes rimmed red. "I'm sorry I scared you. I'm… not in the best place right now."

"Did something happen?"

"One of my best friends died. I just got the letter with the bad news. I lost my composure, and, well…"

Dettlaff got up from where he was sitting and hugged Louis. Louis started crying anew.

"This- this is the second time… Last month, another one of my best friends… Oh, fuck…" Louis sobbed into Dettlaff's shoulder.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Dettlaff mumbled into Louis' ear.

"No… I'm sorry you had to see me like this… I know you wanted to go out and have a fun night out with me…"

"No no, it's okay. It's okay. If you can't go out, I understand. It's not your fault." Dettlaff rubbed Louis' shoulder in a slow circle.

"Thank you… Let me just… cry through this, and then we can head out."

\---------

"AAAAAHHHHH!!!" Louis and Dettlaff screamed at the same time. The "monster" that jumpscared them left as quickly as it came.

"Why do you like these things?! Why do you like being scared?!" Dettlaff sobbed.

"I love thrillers! They get my blood pumping!" Louis trembled as he regained his senses.

"There are activities that can get your blood pumping that are far more pleasant than being utterly terrified!"

"Well, I can't have sex, so…"

"What?" Dettlaff looked at Louis like he had grown a second head. "I had things like swordfighting in mind!"

"Oh…" Apparently, Louis' mind had gone straight to the gutter.

"Oh, thank Lebioda, I finally see the exit!" Dettlaff took Louis' hand and tugged him along as he speedwalked to the exit. Right when the exit was in front of him, one last "monster" jumped in front of him and screeched in their faces. Dettlaff screamed and jumped into Louis' arms. "AAAHHH! I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I WANNA GO HOME!"

Louis was paralyzed with fear as the "monster" moved out of the way and let them have access to the exit. It took Louis thirty seconds to collect himself and carry Dettlaff out.

"S-so, h-h-how did you…? H-how did you l-like that?" Louis shook and trembled as the adrenaline from the scare wore off.

"That was horrible and I never want to do it again!" Dettlaff cried out.

"I'm sorry, Dett. Let's sit down for a while." Louis sat down on a nearby bench. Dettlaff was still too scared to let go of Louis, so he had to sit in his lap.

"I know you want to experience everything in this carnival before it moves on, but why did you have to drag me into the scary thing?!" Dettlaff's voice cracked as he cried just a little.

"I'm sorry. How about I get you a snack?"

"Yeah, sure." Dettlaff still did not let go of Louis. Louis got up with some difficulty and headed towards a food kiosk.

"One funnel cake, with wine and…" Louis trailed off.

"Pink lemonade."

"Strawberry lemonade." Louis finished his order. The server nodded and turned around to fry up a funnel cake. "How do you feel?"

"A little better, now that I've had time." Dettlaff replied.

"Do you want me to put you down now?"

"…No. I like this."

The server turned around and placed Louis' order in front of him. Louis fumbled for his coin purse. Dettlaff took it, dumped out the appropriate amount of money into his hand, and exchanged it for the food and drink. Louis carried Dettlaff to a table while Dettlaff carried their stuff. Once Louis sat down, Dettlaff put their stuff on the table.

"So, uh, how do you eat this?" Dettlaff pointed to the funnel cake.

"It's simple. You just…" Louis tore off a chunk of funnel cake with one hand and popped it into his mouth. Dettlaff sat up in Louis' lap and copied him.

"Mm, this is good." Dettlaff licked some powdered sugar off the corner of his mouth.

"Don't eat it too fast. It might make you sick." Louis warned as he tore himself another piece. His face turned somber as he remembered his dear friend. "I bet he would have enjoyed this…"

"Your friend?" Dettlaff asked. Louis nodded his head. Dettlaff hugged him. "I bet he'd be happy that at least you get to enjoy this."

"Mm." Louis fed himself more funnel cake. "When we're done eating, do you want to do the House of Mirrors next?"

"No!" Dettlaff was surprised by his own voice. "Um, no thank you. I doubt I could be able to take the disorientation so soon after…"

"You're missing out, Dett!" Louis grinned. He took a piece of funnel cake and held it to Dettlaff's mouth. He stared at it for a few seconds, then opened his mouth, allowing Louis to feed him. Dettlaff did the same to Louis, staring into his beautiful eyes.

It was quite romantic, one man sitting on another's lap while they feed each other funnel cake. But it was cut short when Louis reached for the funnel cake and found only sugar on wax paper.

"Aw, damn it!" Lous huffed. He turned back to Dettlaff, who also looked disappointed. There was sugar all over his mouth. Louis had an idea.

He coated two of his fingertips in powdered sugar, looked Dettlaff in the eye, and put his sugary fingers in his mouth, licking them sensually. Dettlaff watched, transfixed. Louis took his fingers out of his mouth once he determined they were clean. But Louis wasn't done yet. He took his wine and, making sure his tongue was visible, downed the entire glass in one gulp, some wine leaking from the corner of his mouth.

Dettlaff suddenly found his throat to be dry. He shifted around, trying to hide that he was very excited. His hands gravitated to Louis' shoulders, and then to his waist. Dettlaff leaned forward, and then froze. Louis closed the distance between them, taking Dettlaff into a kiss. Dettlaff was still for a few seconds before closing his eyes and kissing back. Louis smelled heavily of drying sweat, but Dettlaff didn't care. He pulled Louis closer, his tongue dancing with Louis'. Louis pulled his tongue a little back, onto to lick Dettlaff's lips clean. They rubbed against each other, feeling each other through their clothes, but needing more friction. Louis broke the kiss to moan as he became more and more excited.

Dettlaff pushed himself off of Louis without any warning. He turned away from him and mumbled an apology.

"Why are you apologizing? I wanted that." Louis put a hand on Dettlaff's shoulder. "Is something wrong?"

"I can't. I can't! I just can't!" Dettlaff couldn't bear to see Louis' face, so he didn't.

"Why not?"

"We can't be together! You'll be in…" Dettlaff clamped down on his words.

"Dettlaff…"

"Don't make this harder than it already is. I like you, romantically, but I can't be with you. I'm sorry."

All was quiet for a few moments as Louis processed Dettlaff's words.

"I'm going to the House of Mirrors." Louis stood up, needing to get away from Dettlaff. He headed off in the direction of the House of Mirrors.

\---------

Louis cursed when he ran into another mirror. Maybe coming in here wasn't the best idea after all. This place was so disorienting it made Louis nauseous. He regretted eating something deep-fried.

Louis started to get dizzy as he stumbled his way through the maze. His thoughts muddled as his throat clenched and his mouth stopped salivating. Louis wondered why everything was spinning as he tumbled to the ground.

\-------

Dettlaff finally finished his lemonade. Louis was still nowhere to be seen. Dettlaff got up and went to the House of Mirrors. Again, Louis was nowhere to be seen. Dettlaff started to get worried. He closed his eyes and focused his senses. Dettlaff picked up the smell of sweat, and the sound of light breathing and heartbeat from inside the House.

"Please don't let anyone see me." Dettlaff uttered before parting the curtain and heading inside. Immediately, the mirrors made his head spin, and his brain had trouble processing the environment. Dettlaff didn't know if his lack of a reflection made it better or worse, and he didn't think about it. "Louis? Are you there?"

No one responded. Dettlaff cursed and journeyed down the hallway, keeping his arms out. It seemed like forever before Dettlaff found Louis passed out.

"Louis!" Dettlaff immediately ran over to him, focusing on his vitals. Louis had a shallow pulse and was just short of wheezing. "Louis! Can you hear me?!"

"Ugh…" Louis groaned. "Dett? That you?"

"Yes, it's me. Listen: you're going to be alright. I won't let anything happen to you. Now, stop talking and save your strength." Dettlaff slid an arm under Louis' back and lifted him into a sitting position, leaning against Dettlaff. Once Louis' head was supported, Dettlaff took Louis' knees and pushed them up, enabling him to lift him up and carry him out.

\----------

It could have been a dream or hallucination induced by dehydration, in retrospect, but Louis could have sworn that Dettlaff didn't produce a reflection in any of the mirrors.

\--------

Louis woke up to someone running their hands through his hair. It took him a moment to realize his head was in someone's lap, and he was in the recovery position.

"Ah, you're awake." He heard someone say. Louis was shifted into a sitting position, his back resting against someone's chest. Someone's very strong chest. A cup was held to his lips. "Drink slowly."

Louis let the person pour a salty liquid into his mouth. He absolutely hated the taste, but he drank all of it anyway. "Dettlaff?"

"Yes, it's me." Dettlaff put the cup down. "I'm sorry I didn't realize you were dehydrated. I'm sorry I didn't say anything about how much you sweat earlier. It's my fault you got hurt."

"It's okay, I'm fine now. My gut hurts and I feel like shit, but I'm fine."

"I'll take you home, okay?"

"No, I want to do everything here."

"Louis, you passed out from dehydration. You're not in the right state to walk around. You're going home and that's that."

"Dett…" Louis whined.

"Hush. Your health is more important. There's always next year." Dettlaff stood up and took Louis away, not letting him protest.

"Aw, come on! Don't be like that! I want to at least watch the fireworks!"

\---------

"See? What did I tell you? Watching the fireworks from here isn't so bad." Dettlaff clinked his glass with Louis' as a firework flew into the air and exploded in a shower of colors. "We get to see the fireworks without having our ears blasted out, in the comfort of your own home, with plenty of food and drink."

"But the view isn't as nice." Louis pouted. "I mean, we're on my roof and we still don't have a full view, for crying out loud."

"Better than nothing, however." Dettlaff sat back at Louis' side, maintaining closeness but keeping a respectable distance from him. "How do you feel?"

"Better." Louis drank some salty water. "Ugh. Why are you making me drink this, anyway?"

"If I simply give you water, you'll get sick. My doctor friend has told me that you're supposed to give someone who's dehydrated salted water."

A firework whizzed into the sky and boomed.

"Whoa! The colors for that one are so pretty!" Louis oohed and aahed.

"I know! I love fireworks! …Except for their loudness." Dettlaff stared at the pretty colors as they dissipated.

"Well, what can you do? They're explosives." There was a lull in explosions. "So, what was the scariest part of the horror thing for you?"

"Definately the last scare. I thought it was over, and then that human jumped out."

"For me, it was the vampire. It looked so real that for a second I thought we were actually in danger." Louis shivered a bit and rubbed his arms. "That was a good scare."

"Ah…" Dettlaff sighed and went back to watching the fireworks.

Louis stared at Dettlaff's back. He wondered how it would feel if they spooned. Louis slid a hand to Dettlaff's and curled around it tightly.

Dettlaff was a bit confused by this, but he let Louis' hand stay. After all, it was just a hand hold. It could simply stay platonic. Feelings did not need to get involved.


	6. Chapter 6

Regis mentally cursed as he reread the address on Dettlaff's letter. No matter how hard he tries, he simply can't make heads or tails of addresses. This is why he always has a friend guide him whenever he needs to go to a new place.

Regis decided to take a break. He found a bench and sat down next to a kid with white hair. The kid way in a "chillaxed" position, as the youth would call it, and he wore tinted glasses. He probably thought he looked cool.

"Excuse me? Child?" Regis patted the kid's shoulder.

"Zzzz… Huh? What? I'm awake. What's…" The kid looked around, and realized he was in the marketplace. "…Oh."

"How do you do?" Regis greeted. He thought the boy had an odd accent, one he's never heard before, but Regis didn't voice that thought.

"What?"

"How do-"

"Well, I'm super fucking thirsty and I don't remember the year, so…" The boy stretched, his shoulders popping. "And I have no idea why I decided to nap here of all places."

"Could you point me in the direction of the address on this envelope?" Regis handed the envelope to the boy. He lifted his glasses and examined it. Regis swore that the boy had witcher's eyes. He greatly resembled Geralt, except the boy was clearly younger than Geralt, had a different scar on his face, and did not have any of Geralt's sexual appeal at all. Regis did not need a picture of Geralt's face to compare the boy's to his, for it was long etched into Regis' memory, even after all these years. Not that Regis stared at Geralt back in the day. Much.

"Hmm, I don't really remember a whole lot since I just woke up, but I think it's in…" The boy pondered as he recalled his mental map of Beauclair. He pointed to some imaginary point in the distance. "That direction? I think? I don't know…"

"Ah, thank you." Regis took back the envelope and stood up, brushing the imaginary dust off his coat. "Have a good day, now."

"You too." With that, the boy went back to sleep. It would take him several hours to not only remember the exact directions to the house Regis needed to go to, but also that he talked to one of his heroes, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, from the bard Dandelion's ballads.

\-------

Regis was walking in circles trying to piece together where the address led to when he literally walked straight into Dettlaff.

"Oof! Pardon me, I…" Regis trailed off when he registered the situation. "Dettlaff! It's so good to see you! How have you been?"

"I've been doing well, thank you." Dettlaff smiled, but his smile did not reach his eyes. "You?"

"Well, the search for Geralt wasn't going so well, so I thought to take a break and come visit you. I had trouble finding your home."

"Ah, I'm sorry I never sent you a drawing of where I live. If I had known you were coming, I would have met up with you." Dettlaff walked with Regis to a bench and sat down with him. "I rather like my new home. The people here are nice. Except little Timmy's parents." Dettlaff grumbled at the end.

"What have they done to you?" Regis cautiously questioned Dettlaff.

"They're just ableist towards me. They haven't laid a finger on me or my property, don't worry."

So it wasn't the neighbors that are distressing Dettlaff. If it were, Dettlaff would have hid that fact. "How is business?"

"It's going well, now that I've moved to the city. The smiles on children's faces when they receive a toy I crafted myself is worth the downsides of living in the city."

It's not financial problems either. Dettlaff elaborated on his answer, something people rarely do if they're trying to hide something. "Have you been staying out of trouble?"

Dettlaff hesitated and looked away. "Yes."

Bingo. "Dettlaff, it's okay if you haven't exactly been following the rules. If you're in trouble, you can tell me. I won't judge you, and I may even be able to help you if you've gotten in trouble."

"I'm fine." Dettlaff was tightly gripping his coat, his claws extending a little and creating tears.

"Dett-"

"I don't want to talk about it." In an act befitting a drama queen, Dettlaff suddenly turned into fog and flew away. Thankfully, there was no one around to see his theatrics.

\-------

"Dettlaff! Where are you?" Regis cupped his hands to his mouth and called out. No answer. Regis sighed. If Dettlaff didn't want to be found, he wouldn't.

Regis turned a corner, not paying attention to his surroundings. He bumped into a sorceress in black, spilling her bright green potion all over her.

"Oh, this day just gets better and better!" The sorceress yelled in rage as she took in the state of her potion.

"My apologies, madam. Let me help you clean up." Regis searched through his satchel, trying to find a handkerchief.

"I spent a week making this potion, and then you just come along and spill it all over my nice clothes!"

"Don't worry, you're wearing black. It won't show." Regis finally found a handkerchief and fished it out. "Here."

"I don't want your fucking hanky!" The sorceress performed an extremely strong roundhouse kick, hitting Regis in the face and making him drop his hanky. She put her hands together and began muttering a spell.

Regis recovered from the blow. Surprisingly, it hurt. A lot. "Madam, please, I do not wish to-"

The sorceress finshed her spell. A snake of flame emerged from her hands and coiled around Regis' midsection, burning through his outer coat almost immediately. Regis screamed, and stripped off the burning cloth before the flames could engulf him. The sorceress pulled back her flame rope and snapped her wrist, whipping Regis from his shoulder to his hip, thankfully not setting him on fire.

"Madam, please, calm down, I don't want to fight! I didn't mean to spill the potion!" Regis was shaking, and his voice trembled as memories came back to haunt him.

"Oh, now you're sorry?! Huh?!" The sorceress wrapped the flames around Regis' ankle and yanked it, sending him down to the ground and dragging him closer. She would have hurt him more had she not barely dodged some claws to her side in time, forcing her to release the spell.

"Go! I'll hold her off!" Dettlaff shouted to Regis as he dodged a kick designed to cripple him.

Regis didn't need to be told twice. He ripped off the burning pant leg and stumbled back to his feet. He almost tripped over himself in his rush to get away.

"Meet me at the old place!" Regis remembered to cry out over the haze of fear clouding his mind.

\-------

Regis applied the burn ointment to himself with shaky hands. He whimpered when he accidentally pressed his fingers too hard into his burn. Regis moved his hand away and took a few deep breaths, then tried again. Dettlaff suddenly poofed into the room, startling Regis into pressing into his burn again.

"Oh, no… Are you alright?" Dettlaff was immediately by Regis' side, looking over his burns. Regis nodded, but he was still recovering from earlier. Dettlaff took the small jar of ointment and dipped three fingers in, gathering a glob of ointment. He spread the ointment on Regis' shoulder first, moving to his hip.

"The… The fire… I'm sorry…"

"Shh. You don't need to apologize. I understand. You were melted for years before I found you." Dettlaff finished applying the ointment and moved onto Regis' ankle. "You're the strongest person I've ever known."

"Thank you." Regis smiled at that. "I can't believe that lady from earlier…"

"I actually know her. We're enemies. She's a vampire hunter, usually works alongside this werewolf. You're lucky she wasn't with her." Dettlaff began bandadging Regis. "Why don't you stay here for a while? It takes a long time for us to regenerate when we're that distressed."

"In this cemetary where I spent countless days regenerating? No thank you, I would rather not." Regis attempted to get up, but Dettlaff held him down.

"Stay. Put. I don't want you getting hurt again." Dettlaff looked Regis in the eye. "You were burnt very badly in that fight. You need to stay and regenerate."

"Oh, fine. But I don't want to stay in Mere Lachaise Cemetary any longer than necessary. I have spent far too much time here, and I don't want to spend more than absolutely necessary."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The white-haired boy at the beginning is mrterzieff-godefroy's oc, Cas. He appears in his fic "Blood and Wine Reinvented"


	7. Chapter 7

Dettlaff was out with Louis and friends when he received the order.

"It was then I ordered him to give up his seat and step off the stand. If only you'd seen his face!" A letter fluttered onto the table in the corner of Dettlaff's eye. Dettlaff looked around for whoever left it, but they had already disappeared without a trace. Dettlaff read the letter, his face blanching as he processed the words on the paper. "We got him good, didn't we, Dettlaff?" Louis clapped Dettlaff on the back.

"...No. You got him good." Dettlaff took a drink of strawberry lemonade, not making eye contact with anyone at the table.

"Ha ha, giving all the credit to me, I see!" Louis patted Dettlaff on the shoulder.

"Well, that sounded quite romantic for a first meeting! Have you two made it official yet?" Milton de Peyrac-Peyran, Louis' only living friend from his knight days, leaned forward and asked.

"Made what offical?" Dettlaff furrowed his eyebrows.

"He means, "are you officially a couple yet?"" One of the neighborhood bakers, who was introduced to Louis and Milton that day, cleared up for Dettlaff.

"No, we haven't. In fact, Dettlaff… rejected me." Louis' mood fell as he remembered what Dettlaff said to him.

Milton looked at Dettlaff, enraged that he broke Louis' heart. "You-!"

"I can't date him! My current life circumstances don't allow it! If I did, it would-!" Dettlaff clamped his mouth shut with the palms of his hands.

"It would what?" Louis raised an eyebrow and scowled.

Dettlaff unclamped his mouth."I've said too much. I need to go." Dettlaff put his drink down without finishing it, and got up. Louis grabbed his wrist just before he managed to get out of arms reach.

"Come on, tell me."

"I'm sorry. I can't." Dettlaff broke out of the hold and literally ran away, just fast enough for a human to be unable to keep up with him.

"Dettlaff!" Louis stood up and called out for the one he held affection for.

"Oh, Dettlaff, why are you like this?" The baker facepalmed. "Look, he's a drama queen. Just give him a bit of time and he'll be able to have a mature conversation with you without running away."

"But I…" Louis sighed in defeat. "Alright." Louis sat down again.

\-------

Dettlaff, out of the blue, gave a tempting offer.

"Let's go out today. We can do whatever you like, I'll pay."

Louis raised an eyebrow at Dettlaff's sudden proposal. "Can you even afford that?"

"Yes. I might have to budget a little because of this, but it's worth it."

"Well," Louis smiled. "Have you finally changed your mind about dating me?"

Dettlaff was silent. On one hand, saying yes would make Louis happy in his final days. On the other hand, Dettlaff would need to lie to him, and his betrayal would hurt far more than if he said no.

"You don't have to say anything." Louis kissed Dettlaff at the corner of his mouth. "Let's go."

Dettlaff already felt guilty.

\-------

"Here. I made this for you." Dettlaff held up a flower crown to Louis.

"Oh, thank you!" Louis took off his hat and bowed his head. Dettlaff set the flower crown on his head, adjusting it until it fit snugly.

"You look cute." Indeed, Louis did look cute with the flower crown. When he smiled, it made Dettlaff's heart flutter.

"Have you made one for yourself?"

"No, I have not."

Louis picked some flowers and weaved them as best he could into a flower crown. It was ugly, falling apart, and barely big enough for Dettlaff to wear, but he loved wearing it anyway.

\-------

"So, I was thinking," Louis cut his pancake. "I recently purchased a mill, and I was thinking about buying Corvo Bianco."

"Oh, really?" Dettlaff paused lifting his fork to answer.

"It seemed like such a nice estate back in the day, but nowadays it's gone to the dogs." At Dettlaff's confused look, he elaborated a little. "That means it was once nice, but now it's horrible. Anyway, it was recently seized by the bank, and it's going to be auctioned off soon. I was thinking that I could buy it up, and and do a little work on it so that it makes me more money. What do you think?"

"I don't exactly have a lot of knowledge in real estate." Dettlaff ate the last of his eggs.

"Ah, bother. Anyway, I need to perform an inspection on my mill tomorrow, and I was wondering if you would like to come with me. After all, you have an eye for woodwork." Louis remembered the time Dettlaff gave him a wooden dove.

"Yes, I would like to go. Are you planning a general inspection?" Dettlaff recalled that the letter specifically wanted him to dump Louis' corpse from the mill.

"Yes, I just wish to know what I'm working with before hiring anyone else to inspect it thoroughly."

"It's a good thing you have me, then." Dettlaff smirked. He polished off the last of his food. "Since we're both finished eating our lunches, and I've already paid, let's move on."

"Good idea." Louis got up and pushed in his seat, and Dettlaff did the same.

"Goodbye, see you again!" The seemingly lone worker at this restaurant, Gaunter O'Dimm, waved the men goodbye as they left.

"That man gives me the creeps." Louis looked back and rubbed his arms once he was out of the building.

"Why is that?"

"I don't know, he just does. Maybe he's a vampire. I've always been petrified of vampires."

"…"

"Dettlaff?" Louis stopped and turned to Dettlaff.

"Hmm?"

"You seem… very strong. If a vampire, or some other monster, or even some guy attacked me, would you protect me?"

Dettlaff's throat clenched up. "…Yes. Yes I would."

\-------

"Everyone! Look here! Can you walk on hot coals? Only one way to find out!" The street permormer shouted, gesturing to the bed of flaming coals. "Take the coal-walking challenge now!"

Louis walked over, interested. Dettlaff followed behind.

"Louis, no. You'll hurt yourself." Dettlaff pleaded.

"You! You want to do the challenge? Take off your shoes and walk across the coals! If you do the full walk, you'll win a prize!" The street performer jammed his thumb in the direction of several plushies on a cart, guarded by her girlfriend.

"Sure, why not?" Louis bent down to unlace his shoes.

"Louis, no! You can't! Those will burn you if you touch them!"

"Not if I have confidence!" Louis gave a shit-eating grin and handed his shoes to Dettlaff. "Stand back. You're about to see the power of human will."

"Louis…" Dettlaff performed his best impression of puppy eyes at Louis. He was not affected.

"You need to walk length-wise. If you walk to the short ends, it won't count." The street performer added.

"Really?!" Dettlaff snapped at the street performer. She just shrugged.

"It's for charity."

Louis got into place and mentally steeled himself. He took a few deep breaths. The small crowd that had gathered watched with bated breaths. Louis took a step into the burning coals, then another, then another. Soon, he had crossed the coals and was standing on cool grass.

"Whew! I did it!" Louis wiped the sweat off his brows and threw his arms out.

"Looks like the first challenger has emerged victorious! Go to the cart and pick out a plushie." The street performer directed Louis. She cupped her hands to her mouth and addressed the crowd. "Everyone give him a round of applause! Remember to donate! Just put your money in one of the jars I've put out! All proceeds go to St Lebioda's Children's Hospital!"

Dettlaff stood there, frozen in place, then he sprung into action. He moved with almost inhuman speed, flung Louis over his shoulder, and took him to a bench and sat him down. Dettlaff crouched and inspected Louis' feet, surprised to not find any burns.

"You're not hurt…" Dettlaff ran his thumb over the sole of Louis' foot, mindful of his nail.

"Aw, were you worried about me?"

"Yes! You could have gotten hurt! You could have burned yourself!" Dettlaff raised his voice a little, then sighed and continued in a quiet tone. "I… Fuck, you scared me so much."

"I'm sorry…" Louis held Dettlaff's face in his hand. "I wanted to win you a plushie."

"That wasn't worth risking you getting hurt."

"I'm sorry, Dett." Louis pulled Dettlaff into a hug. "Let's go get you a plush."

Dettlaff continued holding Louis for a while, subtly sniffing his neck. He let go to allow Louis to put his shoes back on. Louis got up and took Dettlaff by the hand to the cart.

"Hello, pick one plushie out please." The woman at the cart greeted.

"It doesn't feel right. You could have gotten hurt." Dettlaff muttered.

"Oh, just pick one! I did this for you! Besides, I knew what I was doing! I've walked on coals before! The secret is to swallow your fear and hesitation, and just go and do it! It's easier said than done, sure, but that's how you do shit like that! If you can do that, then horror becomes enjoyable." Louis ended his rant and waited for Dettlaff to do something. Dettlaff took the hint and looked over his options, and then picked out a fluffy bat around the size of his torso. "There you go. Finally"

"You know, if you want to get your boyfriend a plushie too, you can do the challenge too." The cart girl mentioned.

"Wait here." Dettlaff handed his bat plushie to Louis and took off his shoes. He walked into the coals without hesitation.

"Oh! Looks like someone's eager to do it! …And he just crossed it in four steps! Everyone give him a big round of applause! He gets a plushie too!" The street performer whooped and held a jar out to the crowd to collect money.

Dettlaff came back to Louis and put his shoes back on. "I did it. Pick a plushie."

"Wow! You did not hesitate! What happened to getting hurt?" Louis remarked as he glanced over the plushies.

"Don't worry about it." Dettlaff took back his bat plushie.

Louis "hmm"ed and took a closer look at the plushies. "See you're already taking my advice…" He muttered. Louis picked out a soft, cuddly plushie pf a mourning dove. Louis held it to Dettlaff's bat and made their plushies kiss. Dettlaff smiled, sadness threatening to take over.

\-------

"Thanks for going out with me. I had a lot of fun with you." Louis stood outside the door to his home.

"Don't mention it." Dettlaff hugged Louis, breathing in his musk.

"I really wish this day could have lasted forever. I hope we have many dates like this in the future." Louis nuzzled into Dettlaff's shoulder. Dettlaff said nothing. "Remember: tomorrow at noon, we inspect my mill. Alright?"

"Alright." Dettlaff let go of Louis with quite some reluctance. "I will see you tomorrow."

"If you're up for it, while we're at the mill we can do things more exciting than inspection. Take care." Louis kissed Dettlaff on the cheek. "Goodnight, Dett."

"Goodnight."

With that, Louis went inside and went to bed. Dettlaff walked back home, hugging his plush bat and rocking his upper body back and forth to comfort himself.

\-------

Once Dettlaff was inside his home, all of the emotions he was bottling up cracked open the bottle, fizzed up, and exploded all at once.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUCK!!!!" Dettlaff screamed and sobbed. Pure rage and despair leaked out of his eyes in the form of watery tears. "WHYYYY?!?!?! WHY COULDN'T I JUST HAVE THIS ONE THING?!?!?! WHY HIM?!?!?! WHYYYY?!?!?!"

Dettlaff smashed some empty bottles against the wall. He toppled a table to the ground with his hands and broke his coat hanger against the floor. Dettlaff clawed at his face, arms, and chest, leaving red, bloody lines in their wake.

"WHY DO I HAVE TO SUFFER?!?!?! WHY WHY WHYHYHYHYYY?!?!?!" Dettlaff collapsed and started slashing at the floorboards with his claws (When had he extended them?). He tore the floorboards up and hacked at the foundations, digging a hole to fill with his wrathful energy and heartbreak. Once he started digging up damp soil, Dettlaff bent over and screamed into the hole, pouring all of his emotions into the damp, worm-riddled soil. He screamed for quite a while, before it died down and was replaced with pitiful sobs.

"Why? Why him? Why do they want him?"

His plush bat laid by the door, forgotten.

\-------

"Ah! Just in time! Come in, come in!" Louis beckoned Dettlaff inside his home. "I was about to order my chef to make us some lunch when we go to the mill. What would you like?"

"No thank you. I'm not hungry, and I don't think I will be." Dettlaff refused.

"Really? You don't think you'll get even a little peckish?"

"Yes. I ate earlier." Dettlaff swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Alright, if you say so…" Louis went off to talk to his chef. While he did that, Dettlaff looked around.

Louis liked to surround himself with things only the rich could afford, for there were plenty of purple tapestries and other cloth items around. On the wall hung a portrait of Louis and his immediate family, his two sisters and his mother. There was silverware with a tea pot on an end table, presumably to serve guests.

Louis came back into the room. "Hope you didn't mind me leaving. Would you like some tea?"

"No, I didn't mind. And yes, please. With honey."

Louis turned to the silverware and poured himself and Dettlaff some cups of tea. He added sugar to his and honey to Dettlaff's. He served Dettlaff his tea, earning a "thank you" in exchange.

Dettlaff felt an unpleasant tingling sensation in his fingers and on his lips as he held the cup up and drank from it. Must be literal silverware.

"Do you know why I use silver dishes every time I eat or drink?" Louis brought up to fill the silence.

"I'm assuming that is a retorical question." Dettlaff raised his pinky finger and commented.

"It is. Anyway, why I use silver dishes is in case a vampire somehow gets in my home. If, for some reason, the vampire decided to have itself a sip of wine, then I could hurt it by serving it the wine in a silver goblet. I know it's silly, and that if a vampire is in my home then it's only a matter of time before it sucks my blood, but it helps reassure me, especially during times where I tend to be paranoid." Louis sipped his tea, finishing it off. "Dettlaff? What's wrong? You look so… pale. Even more so than usual."

"Oh, uh…" Dettlaff searched for a suitable excuse. "What- what if the vampire was, I don't know… friendly?"

"Oh, please. Everyone knows vampires are mindless, bloodthirsty beasts. If I ever met one, it would probably kill me in the same day, likely even in the same hour."

The handle on Dettlaff's teacup groaned and almost snapped. Seemingly sensing a bad situation building up, a servant came into the room with a picnic basket and a parasol.

"Your parasol and lunch, as you requested, sir." The servant offered the items to Louis.

"Ah, thank you. You can set it down on the coffee table for now." Louis directed the servant. He turned back to Dettlaff. "How do you like the tea?"

"It is good, thank you." Dettlaff gave an insincere smile and drank the rest of the tea up in one gulp.

\-------

"So, how did you get into carpentry?" Louis adjusted his parasol.

"It was something I've always loved, even as a child. I love carving slabs of wood into beautiful statuettes and toys. To watch the wood slowly get carved into a beautiful, round top, it's always brought me joy." Dettlaff's smile grew as he talked about his passion. "I'm a little obsessed with woodwork." He admitted.

"Well, it is your job." Louis shrugged. "How many toys do you typically make in a day?"

"Hmm, including non-wood ones… I'd say around twenty-five."

"Twenty-five?! Your business must be booming!"

"Actually, I give most of the toys I make away. I only put them on sale when I start running low on stock." Dettlaff heard something shuffling a short distance away, then it became suspiciously silent save for the breathing and heartbeats of four people. "Wait here."

Dettlaff left Louis behind and cautiously approached. Four men, all armed with a horrible sense of fashion and some clubs, jumped out of their hiding spot. Dettlaff sensed their ill intentions before he smelled blood and death on them.

"Well, well, well. Look who we finally found, boys." The leader of the bandits announced. "Our mark, right here. And he just waltzed in like it was nobody's business."

"I don't want any trouble, sirs." Dettlaff summoned his inner Regis. "I'm just passing through."

"Well, we want our coin. And we won't get any until we kill you." The bandit leader made a gesture, and his minions sprung into action. One grabbed at Dettlaff's arm. Another raised his club. The third one fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Miserable curs…" Louis muttered as he rubbed his hand. "Leave, now, and you all shall walk away unscathed."

"Ooohhh, looks like someone's feeling lucky!" The leader was not intimidated. He ran at Louis, who let him get close and, at the last second, stepped to the side, making the bandit swing into the air.

Dettlaff took advantage of the other bandits' distraction to break the nose of the bandit grabbing him with his elbow, and then kick the other one in the groin and tackle him.

Louis punched the leader in the face, knocking him back. The bandit countered by bringing his club down hard on Louis. Louis managed to dodge enough so that his head did not take the attack, but unfortunately his shoulder wasn't so lucky. Louis cried out in pain when the club connected.

When Dettlaff heard Louis scream, he was filled with boiling rage. He killed the two bandits he was occupied with in the blink of an eye, then he sped over to the bandit leader with inhuman speed. He clawed at the bandit, first stabbing him in the gut, then gouging out his eyes. Dettlaff tore the bandit apart, blind with fury.

"Dettlaff." Dettlaff could barely hear Louis. "Dettlaff, that's enough. He's dead."

Dettlaff blinked, and stopped moving. The bandit underneath was barely recognizable, having had most of the flesh on his face torn off. Dettlaff didn't dare look below that. He raised his bloody hands, and sure enough the claws were partially extended. Dettlaff didn't need a mirror to know that his face had taken on a somewhat monstrous appearance.

"Dettlaff's it's okay." Louis laid a hand on Dettlaff's shoulder, standing directly behind him. "They're just bandits. They knew what they were doing, and they knew what might happen to them."

Dettlaff put his hands down and took a few deep breaths. His features shifted until they were human once again. He retracted his claws and stood up. 

"Louis." Dettlaff coughed when he realized his voice was snarly.

"Yes?"

"I heard you scream. Are you alright?" Dettlaff sniffed the air, grateful he couldn't smell Louis' blood.

"My shoulder might be broken, but I'm fine." Louis reassured him.

Dettlaff wiped his hands on the shorts of the bandit leader, then he turned around and gently pushed Louis into a sitting position. Louis allowed Dettlaff to take off his shirt and inspect his shoulder.

"Hm, it doesn't seem to be broken, but I recommend resting it just in case. Now, I'm going to search these bandits. They mentioned someone hiring them to assassinate me." Dettlaff stepped away from Louis and searched all four bandits. He found a note in the pocket of the bandit leader. As he read it, his rage threatened to rise again. Timmy's parents had hired the bandits to kill Dettlaff. It wasn't even for a good reason. They wanted Dettlaff dead because he was "a weirdo, one that was such a freak that he threatened to topple the community."

"Dettlaff? What's wrong?" Louis called out.

"Those ableist…" Dettlaff muttered. "I know who wanted me dead."

"What? What are you going to do?"

"I don't know…" Dettlaff pocketed the letter. "Anyway, shall we get going?"

\-------

"Ah! Here we are! Time flies when you spend quality time with your lover!" Louis announced as he and Dettlaff approached the mill. "Let me get the door." Louis fumbled for his keys. He picked the right one and unlocked the door, holding it open you Dettlaff.

"Thank you." Dettlaff smiled with only his mouth and entered, Louis following behind and closing the door.

Dust covered every inch of the room. There was no sign that anyone had been in here since the mill was put up for sale. This room might have once been where employees worked, but now it was completely empty, save for the entrance, two separate doors, and a staircase.

"I can tell you just from looking at this that the wood is likely rotting, and needs to be replaced." Every inch of the dark room could easily be seen by a vampire.

"How did you know? Wait, nevermind, secrets of the trade." Louis rambled. "Shall we explore a bit?"

\-------

"Thank you so much for helping me out today. I don't know what I would have done without you." Louis beamed at Dettlaff as they climbed up the stairs. "Would you like to sit down and have lunch with me?"

"I thought you only brought lunch for yourself?" Dettlaff questioned.

"I asked the chef to make extra in case you changed your mind. Men tend to get very hungry after physical activity." Louis sat down on a crate, setting down the basket.

"Well, since you already went through the trouble of bringing it…" Dettlaff sat down next to Louis, the basket in-between them.

"The chef made us turkey sandwiches, with lettuce, tomato, onion, and mayo. She also packed some orange juice for us, I know you don't drink alcohol." Louis took out said food items. He found a square tin and opened it. "Oh? Seems she left a little surprise for us. There's chocolate chip cookies in here!"

"Ooh! That's wonderful!" Dettlaff started bouncing up and down a little.

"Dessert first, lunch second?"

"If you want to, then yes." Dettlaff smiled and divided the cookies, giving most of them to Louis.

"You don't have to."

"Please, I insist."

"If you say so…" Louis took one of his cookies and bit into it. He moaned a little, savoring the taste. "Theesh tase so gooh."

Dettlaff picked up a cookie and ate it. It tasted like ash. "I regret giving most of them to you, now."

Louis laughed. It was a beautiful laugh, one that Dettlaff committed to memory. "I'll make sure to tell my chef that, then."

The two ate their cookies in a comfortable silence. Dettlaff found himself gazing at Louis' features, from the way he sweat to how his upturned mouth produced cute little dimples. Louis caught Dettlaff staring and took his hand in his.

"Dettlaff." Louis looked Dettlaff in the eye.

"Yes?"

"I love you. I want to protect you. I want to cuddle with you by the fireplace when it's winter time. I, fuck, I want to spend many more days with you by my side, where we can just sit and make each other smile. Fucking… I love you, Dettlaff."

Dettlaff was silent.

"Dettlaff?

Dettlaff snaked a hand to the back of Louis' head and kissed him slowly. Louis hugged Dettlaff and pushed himself into the kiss. Dettlaff ran his hand through Louis' hair, Louis himself letting his hands run from Dettlaff's strong shoulders to his waist. They broke the kiss, their lips tingling.

"Now that's more like it." Louis panted out.

"Anything to make you happy." Dettlaff kissed Louis on the nose, Louis' face scrunching up adorably.

"Why are you crying?" Louis grew concerned for Dettlaff as the tears flowed freely.

Dettlaff wiped his cheeks. They were wet. Dettlaff stared at the water he had gathered on his fingers.

"I guess… It's because I'm so happy…"

\--------

Dettlaff paid careful attention to Louis' story as he packed up the remains of their lunch.

"…And then mother insisted I buy the mill! Hah, curious, eh?" Louis walked over to the small window and opened it, letting in a bit more light.

Dettlaff did not respond. Emotions churned, spoiled, and boiled in his gut. He could hear Louis walking around, oblivious to what Dettlaff was about to do.

"But at least I've a yarn to spin for friends and associates." Dettlaff flinched when Louis casually patted his shoulder.

Dettlaff was silent. Then, he turned to Louis. "Forgive me…" Dettlaff closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

Louis looked away, then back at Dettlaff. "What…?"

Dettlaff opened his eyes and faced Louis, looking him dead in the eye.

\--------

Regis shot up, suddenly awoken by… something.

"Now what on earth….?" Regis paid careful attention to his surroundings. He could not find anything out of the ordinary, but he was filled with a feeling of dread and despair.

Regis got dressed, his sensitive burns protesting against him. He stepped outside the mausoleum-slash-living quarters, taking in the cool night air. That's when he figured it out. His empathetic bond with Dettlaff from his blood was being triggered by great emotion, which meant Dettlaff was in trouble. Regis focused on his bond.

He could almost feel the flesh being torn apart between his claws.

Regis furrowed his brows and took off, intending to find Dettlaff again.

\--------

Dettlaff mutilated the body, cutting it limb by limb. He shoved the coin purse deep into the throat of the body, as per instructions. Dettlaff finished his work and dumped the pieces of the corpse into the river. Dettlaff rubbed his hands clean. He desperately hoped this would be enough.


	8. Chapter 8

"Toussaint - the land of love and wine!" Milton announced as Beaclair crawled into view.

"Exactly how I remember it." Geralt mentioned with a slight smile. Roach, from how she was acting, seemed to like this place a lot.

The group paid some peasants no mind as they rode past them., and the peasants did the same for them.

"You will find Beauclair has changed some these past years. Walk about when you have the chance. You will see for yourself." Milton invited with a small smirk.

"To me, place always seemed straight out of a fairy tale. Knights-errant, elven palaces…"

At that, Milton turned himself on his horse to face Geralt. "Do you insinuate that we are somehow odd? I shall prove you wrong! This I pledge on the heron!" He shook his fist to emphasize his point.

In the distance, crashing and a scream could be heard. A young knight on a horse was battling something large, as evidenced by his behavior. Geralt leaned over to get a better look at the battle. All of a sudden, a giant literally smashed it's way through the windmill, scattering debris everywhere. A large chunk hit the knight, knocking him off his horse. The knight was panicking now, crawling backwards as the giant took a few languid steps. What remained of the mill leaned over and fell on top of the giant, the wheel of the mill rolling away. The knight, distracted by the mill, inadvertently gave the giant time to smash the mill into even more pieces. The giant only paused to free his club when it got stuck, and then he swung it around, knocking chunks of the mill everywhere.

Geralt nearly got hit by a stray boulder. He recovered quickly and sprung into action, forcing his horse to gallop towards danger. The knights took one look at each other before following Geralt's lead. Geralt watched as the giant picked up the knight's limp horse and lobbed it behind him, hitting a shanty. The young knight finally managed to crawl to his feet, pick his sword back up, and point it at the giant. The giant took a few confident steps forward, then stopped. He turned his head and saw Geralt arrive onto the scene, two knights trailing behind him. Geralt leapt off his horse, and then drew his sword. Geralt looked at the giant, practically daring it to attack him. Milton and Palmerin unsheathed their swords and charged at the giant. Geralt approached more cautiously.

"For my lady!" Milton screamed.

The young knight held up a hand to stop them. "I swore…! I'd kill…! A monster!"

"All for one and one for all!" Palmerin countered.

"Time to end this!" Geralt shouted, promptly before he was stopped by a conveniently-located large herd of sheep getting in his way. Geralt cast Axii on them, dispersing them.

Milton got to the giant first. He lunged at it, taking advantage of it already being wounded. The giant howled, unable to dodge efficiently due to the large gash on its leg. The giant swung its club at Milton, who dodged in the nick of time. Palmerin swung his sword at the giant's good leg. The giant simply moved it out of the way and counterattacked, missing Palmerin. His club brought up a cloud of dirt, blinding Palmerin. The giant kicked Milton away, sending him flying a short distance, before raising his club above Palmerin's head.

Geralt threw a Moon Dust bomb at the giant's face. The giant clutched its head with its free hand, crying out over the loss of its sight. Geralt ran over, casting the sign of Quen, and stabbed the giant in the back of its ankle. The giant fell to one knee and swung blindly, missing Geralt by several feet. It recovered from its blindness and started swinging with more accuracy. Milton and Palmerin focused on the defensive, dodging atttacks whenever they could.

Geralt cast Igni, showering the giant in flames. He held the spell as long as he could, fire licking his fingers as he put more energy into the spell. The giant forced itself to its feet and backed up, getting out of the spell's range just as Geralt's spell waned and dissipated.

"Shit!" Geralt cursed, not even bothering to try and summon a few more sparks.

The giant roared, aflame with burning rage. It charged at Geralt, bringing its club down on him. The blow connected with Geralt, immediately destroying his shield. Geralt cursed again, knocked down by the sheer force of the hit. Milton screamed and charged at the giant, attempting to distract it. He succeeded, drawing the giant's attention long enough for Geralt to get back on his feet.

Geralt threw another Moon Dust bomb at the giant. This time, rather than wail in pity, wailed his club at Geralt. Geralt rolled backwards, saving his life. The giant started swinging his club at any source of noise he could hear, including the sound of rubble shifting around on its own. The young knight jumped into the fight, repeatedly slashing the giant in the leg. Geralt, Milton, and Palmerin did the same, tagteaming it until the giant finally fell to its knees. Geralt wasted no time in climbing up its back and digging his sword deep into its neck, severing the spinal cord. The giant fell, limp. It gave one last whimper before it stopped moving altogether.

Geralt stabbed it a few times for good measure. Then, he wiped the blood off his sword and sheathed it. He addressed the young knight, who had lifted his faceplate to help him recover his breath. "Big beast. Tackling it single-handed? None too wise." Geralt looked at the young knight's horse, who laid dead a short distance away. The young knight did not reply. He simpky crouched down and inspected his horse.

"Neither is love born of wisdom, witcher." Milton walked up to the boy, remembering the good old days when he fought beasts for his various loves. "So, Gulliame, out with it - which fair damsel inspired you to vow to kill that filth.

The knight, Gulliaume, smiled and giggled. "The most beautiful among them."

"If he wishes to guard her name a secret, he need not reveal it." Milton looked at Gulliame, seemingly judging him in silence. He ceased this and walked back to the giant.

"You, I do not know, sir, nor seem you a knight," Gulliame stood up and faced Geralt. "Yet still I am profoundly grateful, nay, indebted to you for your succor. This trophy, sir, is yours."

"I'll take the trophy, why not. Could find some who'll pay to buy it." Geralt commented. "Put up a good fight against the giant. Got experience battling monsters?"

"None. In Toussaint, we mostly chase bandits. But I vowed I'd bring my heart's champion the head of a monstrosity. As the famed Gottfried, known as the Giantkiller, did."

"You don't mean to hunt the Beast, I hope?" Milton cut in. "The matter's best left to Geralt."

"Another challenger awaits me. Yet if Geralt is to hunt the Beast, he ought to know - it's struck again." At Geralt's stare, Gulliame elaborated. "The river surrendered a corpse. It washed up in the meander by the Cockatrice. Damien de la Tour's guardsmen are there already, securing the area."

""Securing the area?" Better go there now, before they trample any tracks, manhandle any evidence." Geralt answered.

"Set forth, then. I shall ride for the city to inform Her Gracious Magnificence that Geralt has arrived. We'll meet later, near Gulliame's tent at the tourney grounds. I shall take you then to see Her Grace." Palmerin announced. He took off for the tourney, with Gulliame following behind.

Geralt took out his knife, tossing it into the air and catching it, holding it so the blade pointed downwards. He sawed the head off easily thanks to the severed spine and several years of experience. Geralt strapped the head to Roach's saddle and got on. Milton was already on his horse, ready to ride. Geralt gave him a look and Milton directed his horse to the river. Geralt caught up to him and rode with him side-by-side.

"Brave kid, Gulliame." Geralt commented.

"Palmerin oversaw his upbringing. Gulliame's his kin." Milton replied.

They rode in silence together for a few moments. "Can't get used to the way you knights talk. Especially how you always switch back and forth between flowery and, well, near normal."

"We are knights-errant in the service of Her Gracious Magnificence. When we appear in her name or speak on her behalf, we are bound by tradition." Milton put plainly.

Geralt didn't bother replying, his implied question answered. They rode in silence together, Geralt finding himself lost in thought. He thought about the time he stayed here with his hanse, Dandelion, Cahir, Milva, Angouleme…

Regis.

Geralt remembered how Milva would always curse on the rare times she shot and missed her target, unlike Regis who rarely, if ever, swore. He remembered the time Dandelion took an arrow in the head and panicked so badly Geralt thought he would hurt himself. Luckily, Regis came back to him and tended to Dandelion's wounds, even though Geralt explicitly warned him not to see them ever again. He remembered how indignant Cahir always was when someone mentioned he was a Nilfgaardian. Geralt chuckled at the little jokes he and Regis shared with each other. He remembered that one time Angouleme accidentally set all their tents on fire. Regis had been the quickest to react, smothering the flames of one tent while the others gathered water from a nearby stream. Thanks to him, none of them slept in the cold, even though it was significantly more cramped in the surviving tents. Geralt and Regis had to share a tent that night. Geralt didn't really mind, even though Regis liked to spoon… shirtless… and hold his hand in his sleep…

Geralt did not realize that were he human, he would be warm. Very warm.

"Geralt? Hello?" Milton waved his hand in front of Geralt's face?

"Huh? Oh, I was just thinking." Geralt snapped out of his reminiscence.

"We have arrived." Milton got off his horse and looked around. "No one here. They must have removed the body already."

Geralt dismounted. "Let's look around. Make sure they didn't miss anything." He suggested.

Geralt and Milton walked around for a bit. It wasn't long before Geralt sniffed out some footprints by the crates.

"Hobnailed boots, multiple sets of prints. Ducal Guard, clearly - let's see where they went." Geralt decided to follow the footprints while Milton examined them. "Walked along the shoreline."

"Perhaps the body lay at the bank." Milton decided to stop looking at the extremely fascinating indents in the dirt and follow Geralt. Geralt was the first to notice the aggresive scurvers.

"Got guests! Be careful!"

After a brief and uneventful fight, save for Geralt getting blood and viscera on his armor from standing too close to an exploding scurver, Geralt went right on back to his investigation.

"Drawn here by the scent of blood. Be careful." Geralt warned Milton before inspecting several miscellaneous items at the river bank. "Anything taken by the current ends up in these shallows." Geralt rattled off the rest of his observations: footprints, blood-soaked scraps of expensive clothing, cut nets, and other things. "Gonna dive in, check the other nets."

Geralt waded into the water, swimming when it reached his waist. He dived underneath, looking for anything out of the ordinary. A mug, no, a broken fishing rod, no…

Aha! A handkerchief! One that looked expensive!

Geralt grabbed it out of the net and surfaced for air. He took a closer look at his prize. "Silk kerchief, monogrammed d.l.C. A noble's accessory, clearly. Be nice to know where they took the corpse." He swam back onto land, where Milton awaited him.

"What now?" Milton asked.

"This isn't the site of the murder, we know that. Current brought the body here. Corpse got caught in the nets. Guardsmen pulled it out, put it in a boat, and took it somewhere. Need to find out where. I'd like to look at the corpse before it starts to decompose."

Milton turned and pointed to a building on the bridge overlooking the river. "The inn - its patrons must have seen the guardsmen, which direction they took. We should ask there."

Geralt saw a woman in black stare intensely at him, then walk away, disappearing from sight.

"One thing - found a handkerchief in the water. Monogrammed "d.l.C." Mean anything to you?"

"De la Croix?! It cannot be. Was it he the Beast slew?!"

"Seems so. Knew him well?"

Milton nodded. "Long past. We were close friends, once, but our paths diverged. He was a man of extremes, standing by his companions no matter the odds, fighting his foes to the bitter end." Milton grew lost in his reminiscence.

"Foes - he have a lot of them?" Geralt asked.

"He did, but I do not see what that has to do with the Beast. Ah, Geralt, you've struck a raw nerve. Memories of a time long past to which I'd rather not return now."

"I understand. We can talk later. Let's go to the tavern." Geralt walked with Milton to the Cockatrice.

"I shall have to leave you soon. Return to court."

"Barely got back to Toussaint." Geralt pointed out, slightly surprised.

"A knight in the service of Her Illustrious Highness knows no rest. In fact, I'd feared I would return too late to fufill my duty. Yet it seems I've arrived in the nick of time." Milton was silent for about half a minute before remembering to tell Geralt that, "Once you have finished examining the corpse, be sure to report to Anarietta."

"Anarietta?"

"Her Grace the Duchess. I forget myself at times. We address each other by our first names in private. Never in Palmerin's presence. He finds such familiarity offensive." Milton explained as they approached the Cockatrice. He smiled once it came into view. "A watering hole for traders, smugglers, boatmen. But you will find no better crayfish chowder in all Toussant." Milton took the liberty of entering the building first. "By my troth! Could that be the musty scent of fresh pâté?" He exclaimed as Geralt walked in.

"Naught else, Sir de Peyrac-Peyran. I see time has not dulled your senses." A rich man in purple, presumably Milton's friend, greeted.

"We would be honored if you would join us." Another rich man, this one in blue, invited Milton to their table. "Your companion as well."

"But why do I not detect even a whiff of crayfish chowder?"

"No soup today," A fisherman butt in. "On account of there being no crayfish. I reckon you've not heard, but all I caught was a corpse!"

Milton sat at the table, attentive and listening.

"I awoke at the crack of dawn, as I do each day, but when I looked up, I behold a blood-red sky…"

"This corpse," Milton started explaining to his friends. "Is precisely why we're here. For the man whom you've invited to join you at the table," Geralt sat down at the table, as if on cue. "Was summoned from a far-off land by Her Gracious Magnificence. He is tasked with tracking and killing the Beast."

"We invited two men to join us, yet since Sir de Peyrac-Peyran in temperament is more akin to hare than hound, I surmise the other is the hunter. With whom do we have the pleasure?" The man in purple subtly sassed.

"Name's Geralt."

"A humble introduction. You've clearly not tarried long with Sir de Peyrac-Peyran." The purple man subtly roasted Milton.

"Spare us the petty insults. Geralt is a master of the witchering trade. He has questions concerning the Beast's last victim." Milton addressed the last part to the fisherman.

"I was the one to find the corpse. The sun had just risen when I awoke, sat straight up in my bed, looked out the window, and beheld a sky red as blood--"

"Ask, Geralt, please. Or we shall be here till winter." Milton groaned.

"Must've been early in the morning. Went to check your nets and then…?"

"I stepped out of my hut and saw…"

"By my troth! To the point, man! You found a body ensnared in one of your crayfish nets. We know this already. What happened then?! Did you see anyone nearby? Did you spy anything noteworthy? Anything at all?" Milton was growing more and more impatient by the second.

"Not a soul around, just me. As for noteworthy… hmm… well…"

"What did you see? But be warned - if I hear the sky was red again…"

"I saw… a head, bobbing - eyes bulging, the tongue blue and popped out. Next to it, a hand rocking upon the water."

"Got a good look at the body parts?" Geralt asked.

"They gave me such a fright, I bolted to town as fast as my legs would take me, then returned with the guardsmen who told me to keep out of their way. They had such a hard haul. The parts were so tangled up in my nets, they were forced to cut them.

"Need to examine the body. Know where they took it?" Geralt prodded for elaboration.

A woman in black stood near the entrance listening and observing the going-ons in the inn. Her attention was focused on one man in particular: Geralt of Rivia.

"They ferried it across, then loaded it onto a cart and hauled it to a cellar at Corvo Bianco. To keep it cool, see." The fisherman explained.

"What? Why, Corvo Bianco is Baron Rossell's estate! When he learns they've turned his cellar into a morgue, he'll set his hounds on them!" Milton sat up in his chair.

While the woman in back shared a glance with Geralt before leaving, the blue man explained to Milton, in a very snobbish tone befitting someone of his financial status, "While you were gallivanting about the North, his vineyard was auctioned off."

"Who was that? Woman who just left? Didn't see her before, didn't notice her walk in, either." Geralt asked the people at the table.

"Doubtless Linnice - the innkeep's daughter. But hold, Geralt, because this is an outrage. Rossell's vineyard was auctioned off?! Inconceivable!

"It is no secret the baron had gambling debts up to his ears. It finally came time to collect - his creditors auctioned off his property. The Ducal Chancellery bought it, in fact. Rossell now bunks with his brother in Vicovaro." The man in blue elaborated to Milton.

Milton groaned. "I told Rossell he'd get his comeuppance. How long can one draw on past heroics?! His creditors must have finally divined that his promises meant nothing."

"Such are the times. Today's knights are pale shadows of the heroes of yore." The man in purple complained needlessly, as old people like to do.

"It's true what they say - gods sent the Beast to punish us for straying from the old paths!" The fisherman butt in once again, apparently still thinking he was part of the conversation at this point.

Geralt ignored the rude guy. "Thanks for the hospitality. Time I examined the corpse." Geralt stood up to leave.

"Corvo Bianco lies a short way from here, near the tourney grounds? Just folow the road and you'll arrive." Milton stood too, to make eye contact with Geralt.

"Not coming with…? Oh yeah, duty of some sort calls."

""Some sort" - hah! Her grace bestowed a great honor on me before we before we departed for Velen. I'm to play the hare during this year's game in the palace gardens. When you see me in my costume, you'll wet yourself laughing!" Milton seemed overjoyed to share this information.

"A little tempted to ask a few questions, but it sounds like a long, complicated story. One involving lengthy digressions into local history and traditions… So, see you later Milton. And good luck." Geralt nodded to Milton and pushed the door open.

Once he was outside, Geralt whistled, summoning his horse. Within seconds, his horse teleported to his side, ever faithful, and ever loyal. Geralt got on Roach with a quick motion embedded in muscle memory and took off for Corvo Bianco.

Again, Geralt thought about Regis. How he always treated him with kindness, even at the times Geralt didn't deserve it. Regis rescued him and Dandelion from execution one time, even though Geralt had threatened him with death the next time he saw him.

"I wish he were alive…" Geralt mumbled. He was broken out of his thoughts by the sounds of a hopeless battle. "Sounds of a fight. I have to hurry."

It grew deathly quiet as Geralt drew near the estate. No birds sang, no critters pranced, not even a single bug dared to make a noise. Geralt crossed the threshold into the estate and dismounted his horse. To his left, a heavily bleeding knight crawled towards Geralt and gasped his last breath of air before falling limp onto the ground, dead. Then, Geralt took in the bodies, and the blood, and the chaos that had happened.

Geralt sighed. "Dammit. Killer must still be here."

Geralt walked through the area, taking in the brutal murders that had occurred. The bodies were still warm.

"Throat torn open by man-like jaws. Man-like except for long fangs."

"Busted ribs, blood from the ears - took a solid hit…"

"Massacred. By a vampire. Not an ekimmara, though? Or a fleder. Bruxa. Gotta be. Black Blood and Moon Dust - could be life savers."

Geralt got down to one knee and unsheathed his silver sword. He took out a rag and his vampire oil and started coating his sword. Once it was nice and greasy, Geralt downed some Black Blood and sheathes his sword. He got up and walked to the cellar, which was where the most chaos appeared to have been. Three dead bodies and an overturned cart rested at the entrance.

"In the cellar, gotta be…" Geralt, after listening for anything dangerous nearby, stepped down the stairs. Another dead body greeted him. Next to it, some footprints. "Footprints. Small, bare feet. Lead deeper into the cellar."

Geralt followed the footprints deeper and deeper into the cellar, body tensed, prepared to strike at a moment's notice. The stench of death flowed everywhere, giving Geralt's nose no reprieve. He stepped over a body. The sound of wet flesh being moved like a toy wagon could be heard. Geralt followed the noise into a large, open room, where a naked woman was bent over a dead man, sifting through his clothes.

"Dammit, where is it?!" The woman ran her hands through her hair. "Oh, he's going to kill me if I don't find it…"

Geralt walked into the room and let himself be known. "You - saw you at the inn."

The woman paused, freezing up.

"I know what you are. Don't know why you killed these people, though. Clearly wasn't for their blood." Geralt continued.

Slowly, the woman turned around. Almost her entire front, including her face, is covered in blood.

"We don't have to fight." Geralt took a few steps towards the woman.

"You are wrong." She finally responded. Before Geralt could process her words, the woman vanished.

The woman flew around the room, circling Geralt. Geralt drew his silver sword, getting into a battle stance. His attention shot to the bruxa locking the grate out, preventing his escape.

"I cannot let you leave." Her voice grew distorted as her body grew monstrous, dangerous, inhuman. She jumped into the air, initiating combat.

Geralt formed the sign of Yrden, creating a purple circle around him. The bruxa fell for the trap, lunging inside and being weakened by the magic. Geralt landed a slash attack on her, leaving a cut from her elbow to her shoulder. The bruxa jumped out of the circle and delivered an ear-piercing screech.

Geralt was knocked back into a wall. Stunned, he didn't notice the bruxa until she was literally on top of him, ready to bleed his neck dry. Geralt headbutted her just in time, saving his life. The bruxa was knocked back by the force of the blow. Geralt took his sword and stabbed the bruxa ineffectually. However, it was enough to get the bruxa to get off.

Geralt got to his feet in a split second and immediately lunged for the bruxa, who dodged and turned invisible. Before Geralt could cast Yrden, the bruxa came up behind him and bit into his exposed neck. The bruxa immediately let go, hurt by the Black Blood affecting Geralt's bloodstream. Blisters formed on her tongue, on her lips, and on her chin. Geralt pressed his hand to his neck and hissed in pain.

Geralt would not be able to fight for much longer. He would lose blood, and fast. He had to hurry. Geralt kicked behind him, hitting the bruxa in the gut. He turned and performed a pirouette, cutting the bruxa once, twice, three times. The bruxa moved out of the way and screamed again. This time, Geralt crouched down and braced himself. As soon as the bruxa was done with the signature move of her kind, Geralt reached up and stabbed her in the gut. He twisted his sword and yanked it out, spilling the bruxa's blood. She gasped and clutched her gut. Geralt finished her off by stabbing her in the heart. The bruxa relaxed and grew limp. Geralt pushed her off his sword, and she fell to the ground. He cut off her head for good measure with a clean slice of his sword.

Geralt finally sat down, breathing deeply. He uncorked a bottle of Swallow and drank it all in one go. Then, he waited for the wound to close up and heal. Geralt groaned as he started regenerating all too fast to be painless. His flesh bent, warped, and knit itself together, pinching in the right way to make this experience as painful as possible. Thankfully, the ordeal was short, and Geralt could walk around without a gaping neck wound again, although he was still a little low on blood.

Geralt cleaned the blood off his sword and sheathed it before standing up on wobbly legs. He walked over to the corpse the bruxa was searching through earlier.

"Killed all these men to get to the body. What was she doing at the table, though?" Geralt asked himself. "Ugh. Stinks. Alcoholic, water-logged, both hands amputated. Body was quartered, just as I thought."

Geralt started his autopsy with the head. "Laid in water for some time. Head's swollen, and something took a few bites out of it." Geralt took a closer look at the neck. "Hm. Something's in the throat." Geralt opened the mouth and removed a brown bag from it. "A pouch. Bulging with coins? Nilfgaardian florens… from several different provinces. If the murderer did this, means we're dealing with a sentient, thinking beast."

Geralt turned his attention to the obvious, the chest with various large lacerations. "Body was chopped up after death. Blows struck with great force, but bones sliced through, not crushed. Creature that killed him had long claws, sharp as a witcher's blade. First sank its claws into the victim's heart. No bruxa did this."

"Alright, let's see what the bruxa was looking for…" After doing a quick once-over on the body, Geralt could find nothing else of interest. He decided to conclude his autopsy. "So, murderer was clearly a monster, but not a bruxa. But then why's the bruxa come here? What was she looking for? Why was it so important she killed all these people?" Geralt paused to take a deep breath, and continued. Now, pouch shoved down the victim's throat - what's the significance? And why was he chopped into pieces? Lot's of questions, no answers so far. Need to know about the other victims." Geralt turned away from the body. "I'll ask Palmerin to get me in to see the Duchess."


	9. Chapter 9

Palmerin was finishing up a story he was telling to a group of children when Geralt approached. Geralt waited as Palmerin concluded the tale of how the brave knight Guillaume slew the Golyat.

"Need to speak to the duchess. Urgently." Geralt wasted no time in saying what is necessary after Palmerin finished.

"All right, you scamps. Story's done. Go find your parents." Palmerin dismissed the children, but they didn't leave.

"But sir Palmerin! What about the story of Riddick and the dragon?" A boy, no older than ten, asked.

"That's a tale for another time. But take a good look at the man who stands before you now." The children looked to the hero Geralt. Geralt subtly posed for them, but posed dramatically. "This is Geralt of Rivia, the master witcher who lent his valiant hand to the defeat of the giant Golyat."

"Master witcher, is it true that virtue always trumps villainy?" A little girl asked him.

Geralt decided to be honest. "Not always. Could go either way. Sometimes virtue wins, sometimes villainy gets the upper hand. Still worth being good."

"But why, if it doesn't mean you'll win?"

"Palmerin's story - think back. A decent man attracts other good folk, makes friends he can count on. A rogue, well, he can only count on other rogues. And who would you rather have for a friend?"

"A man of virtue?" A third child ventured.

"I must agree." Palmerin butt in. "Now, that'll do for questions. Go find your parents." He shooed the children away, who hopped and skipped as they formed a little game among themselves. "Her Enlightened Highness has doubtless arrived at the tourney grounds to watch the battle in the arena. If we hurry, we'll be in time to speak with her before the spectacle begins." Palmerin stared at some point in the distance before going off with Geralt to the tourney.

Children played together as the adults walked through. Geralt fondly recalled his early childhood memories of playing in the dirt, fighting his brothers with sticks. "Who's fighting? Nilfgaardian gladiators?"

"Close, but not quite. As you will soon see."

Not too far away, a shaelmaar screeched and shook its cage as its handlers poured their strength into keeping the cage shut. Geralt watched, concern clearly visible in his body language.

"Someone's gonna fight a shaelmaar? With only some bells on its tail to confuse it, slow it down?" Geralt said as one man retrieved a shackle with bells attached and locked it onto the shaelmaar's tail.

"Whatever is the problem? The beast is a gift, from the emperor, no less." The shaelmaar thrashed violently in its cage, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"Shouldn't torment the beast. How would you like to be dumped in an arena, blindfolded, with a string of bells dangling from your ass?"

"Pity a monster? You? A witcher?"

"I slay monsters who are a threat to humans. You're out to humiliate one to entertain a crowd." Geralt paused for a second. "No knight'll gain any glory from this." He sighed and shook his head. "Let's go."

Palmerin and Geralt stepped into the entrance leading to the stands.

\--------

Guillaume walked out of the gate, armored and ready for battle. He went into the center of the arena, where he showed off for the roaring crowd. Guillaume stabbed his sword into the dirt.

"I dedicate my imminent victory to fair Lady Vivienne!"

Said lady was sitting next to Duchess Anna Henrietta. Vivienne stared, and blushed just a little.

"Looks like you have an admirer." Anna mentioned to her with a smirk.

Geralt and Palmerin reached the stands just in time to see Guillaume remove his sword from the ground and face the soon-to-be released shaelmaar.

"It's begun. The fight shall have to end first. We must wait." Palmerin informed Geralt, who groaned and put his head in his hands. Their attention was drawn to the shaelmaar banging on its cage.

A knight stabbed it with a spear from behind, forcing the shaelmaar to come out into the arena grounds. It pitifully walked about the arena, while Guillaume got ready to fight. The shaelmaar fell over onto its side, then managed to get up again. The bells jingled on its tail as it came closer to Guillaume. The young knight let out a battle cry and slashed at the shaelmaar's leg. The shaelmaar narrowly missed Guillaume with its blunt claws.

"Got a bad feeling about this…" Geralt remarked as the shaelmaar stood on its hind legs and squealed.

The shaelmaar shook and slumped back onto its front legs. Guillaume sprinted towards it, and just when he was within attacking distance, the shaelmaar spun around and whipped Guillaume with its tail. A piece of armor got loose and flew into the wall of the arena. The shaelmaar curled up into a ball and rolled into the spot where the armor hit. It crashed into the wall and flipped over onto its back.

Anna Henrietta stood up and clapped, her handmaidens following suit. Vivienne, however, did not react to the battle. She was so lost in thought that she didn't register anything. Guillaume heard the crowd cheering for him, and then he committed a huge mistake. He celebrated too early.

The shaelmaar recovered and stood up. The bells slipped off its tail as it walked.

"Dammit." Geralt swore as he noticed. He and Palmerin paid closer attention to the battle.

Guillaume was still celebrating, pounding his sword against his shield and whooping. The shaelmaar, uninhibited by annoying bells, rolled lightning-fast into Guillaume. He noticed just in time to raise his shield. It protected him from the brunt of the impact, but he still went flying into the air. Guillaume lost his grip on his sword and fell to the ground, unconscious. Anna and her handmaidens could only watch in horror.

"We have to help him." Was all the warning Geralt gave before leaping over the railing into the battle. Palmerin calmly stepped over the railing and pushed himself into the arena with an "oof."

\----------

The shaelmaar made a truly pitiful noise before falling over onto its side. Geralt took a few deep breaths now that it was over. Palmerin suffered a few bruises, Guillaume was just waking up, but thankfully was not further injured, and Geralt himself had some cuts and bruises. A fanfare trumpet blared, signaling Geralt's and Palmerin's victory.

"The shaelmaar lies defeated by Geralt of Rivia, master of the witchering trade! Behold as the last gasps of life seep from the beast!" Announced le Papillon. The audience stood up and cheered for Geralt. Geralt was quite visibly confused.

"Master Geralt, do what you must! Finish the deed!" Anna called out.

"Monster's no threat! No need to kill it!" Geralt sheathed his sword.

"A victor may always show mercy! It is his right! Long live Geralt the Merciful!" The audience came alive once again at the cue of the announcer. "Pikemen, see to the beast!"

Two knights ran out into the arena and guarded the shaelmaar, pointing the ends of their weapons at it. Palmerin helped Guillaume up a short distance away.

"Guillaume?" Palmerin called out. "The lad came damned close to dying." He added to himself as he put Guillaume's arm around his shoulders.

"I'm… fine… not hurt at all… Vivienne…?"

"Smile as befits a hero and keep silent. Speech clearly pains you. She approaches."

The Duchess and her handmaidens strolled into the arena in the fashion of supermodels. Anna was walking in front, with one handmaiden behind her and to each side. Vivienne stood to her left.

"Geralt… We must… talk… Vivienne…" Guillaume groaned out.

"You shall talk later. In the medic's tent." Palmerin instructed Guillaume.

Anna approached the center of the arena and waved her arms around. "Geralt! Magnificent! Breathtaking!" Her heavy Beauclairois accent added spectacularly to her regal demeanor. It made the praise seem truly unique.

"Your Grace…" Geralt greeted with a slight bow of his head.

"We knew that to summon you was a brilliant idea! We are delighted, ravished, to have struck upon it." Anna warmly welcomed Geralt with a smile on her face.

Vivienne looked at Guillaume. He was all smiley, and he was even blushing just a bit. Vivienne rolled her eyes.

"And I'm truly… uh, honored." Geralt was quite unused to people actually liking witchers, and it showed.

"See to our young hero - hop hop! For we must make off with Geralt. We should talk." As soon as Anna finished addressing her handmaidens, they left to attend to Guillaume. "We had been long awaiting your arrival, had nearly lost hope. Then suddenly - that entrance! So spectacular!"

Geralt got straight down to business. "Your Grace, my contract - I'd like to discuss it."

"Naturally. But not here." Anna went a short distance before remembering. "We shall need Damien. He led the investigation pending your arrival. But wherever could he be? Come, we must find him."

Geralt left with Anna, two handmaidens, neither of which Geralt knew, following a respectable distance away. The shaelmaar heaved in agony.

\---------

"Tell us, have you come alone," Anna paused. "Or did Viscount Julian accompany you?"

Anna and Geralt walked through the tourney grounds. Even here, Geralt could smell all of the spices used to make snacks for the audience. Wormwood, basil, sage, anise, and, most prominently of all, cinnamon. "Wish to see Dandelion, your Grace?"

"Yes! I mean, no! Ugh." Anna shook her head and sighed. "Yes. But solely to tell him we regret - yes, deeply regret - rescinding the death sentence we so justly handed down upon him. If we could turn back time, we would make certain he sat in a tower till he rotted - no, we would ensure he was broken on the wheel, then drawn, hanged, and quartered!"

Geralt gave her a look. An important-looking man came into view. He was speaking with a heavily-armored knight.

"Ah! The very man we would entrust with these tasks - Damian de la Tour, captain of my personal guard."

Damian ended his conversation and turned around to face the newcomers. "Your Grace. Witcher."

"Greetings." Geralt replied. "Sorry to have to tell you, but the guardsmen handling the last victim's body--"

"I know already. The creature in the cellar of Corvo Bianco - was it the Beast?" Damian interrupted.

"No, but it may have been an accomplice. A bruxa, a kind of vampire, was searching for something on the victim's body. Something a certain "he" wants, possibly the Beast."

"You know this how?"

"Through careful analysis of the evidence, both on the riverbank, and at Corvo Bianco. Also, the bruxa mentioned looking for something."

Damian crossed his arms. "Do you mean to insinuate the investigation thus far has been sloppy?"

"Geralt insinuates nothing of the sort. We must listen to him attentively." Anna commanded Damian.

"I examined the body of the Beast's last victim. Pierced in the heart, then slashed and cut up by long, sharp claws. May need access to it later. Also like to hear all you know about the previous victims. Take it de la Tour's my man for that?"

"Firstly, call me Damian, please." Damian started. "Secondly, you should know I spoke against summoning you here. I've heard much about you. You bring trouble, or thus far have, always. And we've enough trouble as it is. Yet we are capable of defeating the Beast on our own,without an outsider's help. I've no doubt about it."

Anna sighed. "Damian, we settled the matter of the witcher's employ some time past. Definitively. Since you have broached it nonetheless, let us discuss Geralt's pay." Anna paused to inhale. "Are the legends true? Do witchers usually demand "that which you find at home, yet did not expect"?" A man came out of nowhere with a key and a piece of paper on a pillow.

"Not quite, Your Grace. Law of surprise… it's something we invoke at times, but rarely. Usually we just take gold."

"Disappointing. This "law" sounds rather romantic. On the other hand, on returning to the palace, we would likely find impatient petitioners, or a set of sample fabrics for a new dress. Poor rewards, both. I fear you'd not have much use for any of the surprises we are likely to come upon. Thus we've decided you shall receive the deed to a vineyard, Corvo Bianco, and a sum of coin." Anna's handmaidens, along with Damian, silently judged her. "You will doubtless consider this adequate. Title to the vineyard shall be given to you at once -" The man stepped forward with Anna's cue and presented the items. "Surely you'll need lodgings while you hunt. The coin, however, will be yours only once you have slain the Beast."

"Lovely, generous gesture, Your Grace. But, uh, Corvo Bianco - isn't it the duchy's temporary morgue?" Geralt pocketed the key and deed.

"Is it, now? The chancellery's bungled things again, we fear! Not to be left unsupervised for one instant! Yet in its mood a morgue should present minimal problems to a witcher. What's more, nothing enhances a wine's reputation better than a grim legend."

"Thank you, Your Grace. I accept the contract. But as I said before, I'll need some information." Geralt walked over to Damian. "How'd it start? Who was the first victim?"

"Crespi was the first to die. He was famed once for his many glorious tournament victories. Then he grew old, hung up his sword, and took to wine making."

"Crespi was not loved by the merchants." Anna elaborated. "He was ruthless in business and thought to cheat many a time. He asked us for a dispensation from all court ceremonies. We did not grant it, we could not. Once you've taken the oath of a knight, you remain a knight until death.

"How'd he die? Where'd they find the body?"

"Quite unusual, the circumstance. He was at a feast whensuddenly one of his fellow feast goers noticed he was missing. The Town Watch found him an hour later - on his hands and knees, propped against the town pillory, his sword hanging from his neck. He had died of wounds inflicted with claws, not a weapon. Blows of great force."

"So he died suddenly - but the body was on its knees. Meaning someone posed it."

"So it seems." Damian confirmed.

"Second murder - tell me what you know." Geralt requested.

"In the city there are certain nooks, no one reasonable ventures there after dark? Ramon du Lac's corpse was found in one such place. With the first murder, terror gripped the city, its inhabitants grew wary, kept to safe areas. Consequently, news of the second victim came to us from a group of concerned… cutpurses."

"Criminals fear the Beast? Telling, in a way. Take it you've excluded the possibility that Ramon died at the hands of these bandits."

"Do you believe me an amateur? Not hands, but claws killed Ramon du Lac. The wound was deep, clean."

"His body was found in the gutter, dressed in nightshirt and cap, a pillow placed under his head and his sword replaced by a bed warmer." Anna explained when Damian failed to do so. "Ramon du Lac! A knight who but a dozen years past was an advisor to our father, the duke."

"Someone went to a lot of trouble to make him look ridiculous. Maybe revenge was the motive?" Geralt suggested.

"It's not out of the question? Du Lac had shady dealings with the criminal underworld, but no one ever came forth with concrete proof of any misdoings." Damian replied.

"So, first two victims were knights, best years behind them." Geralt confirmed with the others.

"The same could be said of the third. Sir de la Croix was wont to claim that in modern times knights face new challenges, enterprise being the latest addition to the chivalric virtues." Damian read one of the papers on his desk.

"He made a veritable fortune in the grain and wine trades. Palmerin even nicknamed him Sir de la Stingy." Anna added.

"Found a coin pouch on his body. Contained florens, dating from various times, hailing from different provinces of the empire."

"De la Croix loved coin, true, but he had no patience for numismatics." Damian scribbled something down on his paper.

"Lots of similarities between the victims. All the bodies were found in strange places, under extraordinary circumstances. Seems the murderer, whoever or whatever it is, has some meaning to convey." Geralt 'hmm'ed and started pondering.

"These are honorable men." Anna began her defense of the men. "We are horrified by the disdain, the disrespect with which they were treated. These were knights of Toussaint, blast it!"

"Might be the point." Geralt noted. "From what you say, none were a model of virtue. Ever consider that's what the Beast's trying to draw attention to?"

"All the murdered men were knights who swore fealty to the Five Chivalric Virtues. And even if th--"

"Knights of Toussaint swear fealty to what virtues, exactly?" Geralt interrupted.

"Honor, wisdom, generosity, valor and compassion." Anna recited without missing a beat.

"Beast seems to be pointing out moral decay, denouncing it. Victims were all humiliated. Might've been murdered to emphasize their lack of specific chivalric virtues." 

"Honor compromised by the pillory," Damien muttered as he stood up. "Wisdom by ridicule, generosity by a coin pouch shoved down the throat… It seems to fit, true, though not perfectly."

"Can't discount the theory if it's on the lips of everyone in town. Say our reasoning's right - next murder it'll be just as showy and denounce the victim's lack of the fourth virtue - valor. We can also assume the victim'll be an elder knight."

"Let's think…" Anna took a few steps in thought. "At the moment, all the knights are either at the tourney grounds or in the palace gardens. Our annual Hare Hunt shall begin there shortly. Have you heard the custom?"

"Milton mentioned something. Seemed excited to prance around in a bunny costume, not sure why." Geralt came to a realization. "Hang on… strange circumstances, a knight in bunny costume, the famed cowardice of rabbits…"

"Could it be that simple? Is Milton de Peyrac-Peyran the next victim?" Anna paced a little, dread creeping up her spine at the implication.

"Milton also knew de la Croix. Told me so, down by the river."

"Damien! To miss something so obvious! De Peyrac-Peyran, Crespi, de la Croix, and du Lac formed a knightly team! It was years ago, but…"

"Your Grace, we need to find Milton. Immediately." Geralt warned. He was tempted to simply storm off and find his friend.

"Rather problematic. You see, the garden entertainments are due to start, and he's disguised as the Hare, hiding somewhere, waiting for some tipsy courtiers to find him. The Hare's hiding place is a carefully guarded secret."

"We must call off the game, at once!" Damien declared.

"First and foremost," Anna began. "We must remain calm. Damien, order the gardens searched, immediately but discreetly. By no means can we disrupt the festivities. Panic will only incite the Beast to strike sooner." Damien nodded in understanding and went off to gather his knights. "And you, witcher, follow me! My gardens, my knight, I shall take the fore!" Anna gazed at her castle, determination filling her body. "A murder is out of the question. I will not allow it! Not near my palace! Horses! Ready our horses!"

Anna, in her haste, almost tripped and stumbled over her own dress. Anna didn't hesitate to rip off the skirt with a few powerful motions. The handmaidens gasped in horror.

"Your Grace!" One of Anna's handmaidens called out. Anna didn't pay them any mind. She freed her skirt from her dress and ran off, handmaidens chasing her, and Geralt checking her out before whistling to Roach. Anna began mounting a white horse tended to by a young man.

"What the hell?! Why, I shall-" The stablehand ran over to Anna's side of the horse and quickly realized who she was. "Your Highness! I…"

Anna shoved the skirt into his hands before he could finish. "Mind it doesn't get wrinkled." Anna spurred her horse into action, threading the needle her handmaidens formed. "Onward!"

Geralt kicked his horse into gear, catching up to Anna. They rode off to the palace grounds, not wasting even a second in arriving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late. I may not update as much or on schedule due to transcripting dialogue being super fucking shitty. I hope you guys understand.
> 
> Betaread by mrterzieff_godefroy


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaread yet

"Damn it all, where is he?!"

Regis had been trailing Dettlaff through the tourney grounds, desperate to stop him from taking a life before it's too late. Dettlaff clearly found out, for he turned to several forms and switched strategies for travel multiple times before Regis finally lost track of him.

Regis grew more and more frightened, both for Dettlaff, and his victim. He didn't wish for anyone to get hurt under any circumstance. When Dettlaff visited him, panicking and reeking of human blood, Regis couldn't stand by and wait for Dettlaff to tell him on his own. He started inquiring, and snooping around. In the process, Regis accidentally spooked Dettlaff into hiding. It was only pure luck that Regis found him here, at the tourney grounds, feeling his dread emanating from him, his hunter's instincts kicked into full gear.

While searching for Dettlaff, Regis heard the booming claps of an excited crowd. He wandered over to the arena stands, wondering what everyone was watching. Maybe Dettlaff was in the audience, too.

Regis walked into the stands and gasped. In the arena, was Geralt. His Geralt. His Geralt, who stood over a dying shaelmaar. His Geralt, who was fresh from a fight, and oh so beautiful. Geralt said something Regis didn't hear. Regis' love for Geralt intensified, expanded with the sight of his Geralt. His Geralt, who Regis once thought dead. His Geralt, who Regis had searched the four corners of the world for. His Geralt, who Regis had almost given up on finding.

Regis almost couldn't contain himself. He ran to the bottom of the stairs, tripping over his own feet. Just when he reached the railing blocking the audience from the arena itself, the Duchess Annarietta came into the arena and spoke with Geralt. Regis hit his hand against the railing, accidentally breaking it. He knew the Duchess was prone to executing people when she got emotional. Regis didn't want to risk his Geralt getting hurt. He would simply have to wait.

\--------

Regis snarled a little bit. Geralt was in a conversation with the Duchess and some guy named Damian, and it was taking forever! Regis took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He had learned valuable information about Dettlaff from their discussion, so at least being patient had its purpose.

Regis spied Dettlaff in the distance. He had let his guard down temporarily. Regis contemplated his options. It didn't sound like Geralt was going anywhere anytime soon. Regis decided to go after Dettlaff. He got up from his hiding spot, changed into a bat, and flapped his wings. He flew over to Dettlaff, who didn't notice him until it was too late for him to get away.

Regis changed back into his human form. "Dettlaff! Finally! Are you alright?"

Dettlaff backed away, a fearful expression on his face. "What are you doing here?! You need to go back to Mere-Lachaiselongue! Your burns-!"

"Never mind my burns, is everything alright? I can feel how ill at ease you are. I can help."

"Yes! Now leave me alone!"

"Dettlaff, you don't need to-"

Dettlaff fled, turning to fog and zipping around supernaturally fast, even for vampiric standards. Regis took one look at him and didn't bother chasing him. The regeneration process after Stygga had aged Regis, weakening him and slowing him down. And his burns didn't help, either.

Regis huffed and turned around. He turned back into a bat and returned to his little hidey hole. Only Damian was there now, wrapping up the orders he was giving to a group of high-ranking knights. Regis couldn't find Geralt anywhere, no matter where he looked. Regis changed back into a man and waited for Damien to finish, then he revealed himself to him.

"Pardon me, sir, but have you seen a witcher with white hair?" Regis asked, feigning ignorance of his discussion.

"Why do you ask?"

"I need to speak with him. It is urgent." Technically, Regis wasn't lying. He needed to reunite with him, to at least let him know he isn't dead. Regis just knew that Geralt misses him dearly.

"Just left with Her Grace to the Palace Grounds. If you hurry, you might be able to catch up to them." At Regis' face, Damian elaborated. "Over in that general direction." He pointed and gave follow-up directions that Regis could barely make sense of.

"Ah, thank you, sir. Have a good day." Regis thanked Damian and sprinted off before Damian could say "you too."

Regis would forget the directions and find himself horribly lost.

\-------

"Your Grace!" A nobleman ran up to Anna holding a parchment. "If I could just have a moment of your time-"

"I have no time! Out of the way!" Anna shoved him out of the way and trudged on, ignoring the slight scene she caused.

Anna repeated this with several other people who dared to block her, her patience growing thinner and thinner with each blasted human being. After what seemed like an eternity, Anna finally reached her destination, and groaned. In order to get the phoenix egg, she has to climb what is possibly the highest, hardest rock climbing wall in all of Toussaint.

"Why didn't I go for the unicorn?" Anna groaned and rubbed her temples. It wasn't like she's never done this before, she just never needed to climb a wall as difficult as the one before her.

Anna stretched her palms out and shook them. She didn't bother putting on protective gear before scaling the wall. Anna first grabbed at some footholds, and stepped on some more at the bottom.

Now that Anna has gotten started, she looked up and planned her next moves. She had been wrong in her initial observation. This wasn't the highest, hardest rock climbing wall in all of Toussaint. This was possibly the highest, hardest rock climbing wall in the world.

Anna groaned again and reached for a brightly colored fragment. She almost lost her balance and fell, but thankfully she caught the handhold before anything could happen. That would have been embarrassing. Aided by the new support, Anna pulled herself up and to the side with a grunt.

Anna swung her leg up into a groove, so high up she would have trouble in supporting her weight on it. Using her arms, Anna pulled herself up and made her other leg join in. She shimmied around and took a risky leap, successfully grabbing the handholds. Anna breathed a sigh of relief and looked down. Somehow, she had already made it up halfway up the wall. Her hands burned, and her legs ached, but Anna did not allow herself even a few more seconds for a break.

Anna grit her teeth and continued her ordeal. She panted and grunted and almost fell several times, but she did it. She reached the top. Anna pulled herself up onto the floor with the last of her strength and collapsed onto it, exhausted. She pinched herself on the cheek and forced herself to sit up in order to claim her hard-earned prize.

A short distance away, there was a nest of hay, but no egg. Anna frowned. She sluggishly crawled on over to the nest. When she discovered someone had beat her to the egg, Anna was filled with rage. She had just spent her energy and several hours of her time just to have it all be for nothing, no, worse than nothing. This delay could mean the life of Milton!

Anna took a few deep breaths. She needed to stay calm. Milton needed her to stay calm. Anna rose on shaky legs and stepped to the edge of the platform. In retrospect, forgoing protective gear may not have been the best idea. Now, she couldn't get down. From the top of the extremely high wall. Much less in a relatively short amount of time.

Since she was here, Anna figured she might as well try to find whoever has the phoenix egg. Anna shielded her eyes and spied a noble couple heading to the turn-in stand for the items hidden about.

"Hello, Your Grace." Anna jumped and almost fell off the edge. "Oh, pardon me. I did not mean to scare you. Force of habit."

"Fuck!"

"I apologize." The old man that had snuck up on her took in her appearance. He seemed familiar to Anna, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "My my my, your skirt is missing, and you have forgone proper equipment. Were you really that eager to complete this challenge?"

"Um…" Anna carefully suppressed her flushing.

"I don't blame you, Your Grace. This is always the best part of these activities, in my opinion. Do you need help getting down?"

"Do you?" Anna retorted, pointing out that the stranger was also lacking in the proper gear.

"No, Your Grace. I've gone without gear dozens of times, literally. If you need help, don't be afraid to ask." The man smiled at Anna. If she had looked closely, she would have noticed that he had unusually sharp teeth, and that he cast no shadow.

"…Can you do it quickly?"

"Of course I can." The man let his hands hover behind Anna, one just beneath her shoulderblades, another by her knees. "May I?"

Anna sighed, but she gave her approval. The man picked her up and shifted her around a bit before stepping off the edge, giving no warning to the duchess. He landed on the ground with a thud, his knees bending to accomodate the shock sent through them.

"What the flip?!" Anna yelled as she wriggled out onto her feet.

"I apologize, I often forget what… most people find as scary." The man bowed deeply at the waist.

Anna was about to give him a tongue-lashing, but decided otherwise. "Ugh." She stormed off to the courtyard, eager to finally save Milton. She spotted her target, the noble couple with the phoenix egg. Anna stalked up to them, containing her anger.

"Congratulations! You have completed the Phoenix Challenge! Now-"

"You two. Egg. Give it to me." Anna held out her hand to the noble couple eith the egg, disregarding the worker just in front of them.

"What-?!" The woman holding the egg gasped.

"Let me rephrase. Give me the egg immediately."

The worker sitting at the table stood up. "If you please, Your Grace…"

"We do not please.We act our of the highest necessity. All shall be explained later." Anna wiggled her fingers, gesturing for the woman to hand it over.

"But it's against the rules…"

"I am the rules!" Anna raised her voice at the poor worker. The woman took a few steps forward and placed the egg in her hand. At the same time, Geralt came into view, holding something in each hand. "Geralt! At last!"

\-------

Regis gasped and almost fell over. Dettlaff was in trouble. He could feel it.

\-------

Geralt pushed the door to the warehouse open wide open. He drew his sword and snuck into the middle of the room, prepared to strike at any minute.

"I'm here." Geralt shot his attention to the Beast, a humanoid in black. He was standing on the platform high above Geralt, too high for him to easily attack. "I do not know you. I've done you no harm. Yet first you butchered a bruxa who was dear to me. Now you pursue me. Why?"

"You killed four innocent people. At least."

"And you? How many innocents have you cut down?"

"Not here to talk about me." Geralt saw through the Beast's stalling tactic.

"Yet that is exactly what we are doing." The Beast walked across the platform, forming an intimidating aura about himself. "So, did they send you after me? Who are they?"

"What do you mean, "they"? Duchess hired me. You've been murdering her subjects."

The Beast paused, seemingly processing this new information. He chuckled at a little joke only he seemed to get. "Is it as simple as that?" The Beast did not wait for Geralt's answer? "I would ask you to convey to the Duchess that I've but one victim left, but…"

The Beast disappeared. Geralt raised his sword, ready for a counterattack. The Beast reappeared behind him, claws extended and face morphed into something hideous.

"…You'll not get the chance."

\-------

Regis had just given up on his search for Dettlaff and Geralt when he saw all of the guards stationed around the greenhouse. They weren't there earlier when he had passed through the area, just a man in a bunny costume. He thought this quite odd. Regis approached one of the guards.

"Excuse me, sir, would you mind telling me why there is all this security here?"

"That is a secret, I'm afraid."

"Oh, well I apologize for wasting your time." Regis bowed slightly at the waist.

"No no, it's okay."

Regis walked away from the guards. As soon as he was out of sight, he turned into fog and snuck into the greenhouse. As soon as he saw the state of the man in costume, he knew it had to be Dettlaff. As far as Regis knew, there were no other vampires here, and even if there were they would have simply drank the man dry.

Regis got closer and took in Dettlaff's scent. Faint, yet trackable. He floated out of the greenhouse and changed back. He sniffed around, speedwalking to where Dettlaff was hopefully resting.

Sounds of a fight reached Regis' ears.

"Oh, no."

Regis ran to the source of the noise, not caring who, or if anyone, saw him. He was filled with fear, dread, and a million other emotions Regis didn't bother naming. He heard a deep groan from where the fight was originating, one very deep, familiar groan that could only belong to one person.

"Geralt!"

Regis pushed himself to go even faster, faster than he has ever gone in years. He reached a warehouse, where the fight must be taking place. He slammed the door open, and found Dettlaff, lunging at Geralt from behind, about to take his life.

Regis didn't hesitate. He stood in Dettlaff's way, using his supernatural speed to reach it just in time. Dettlaff's claws sank through his chest, tearing clean through his heart and his back. Dettlaff yanked his claws, but Regis put his hand behind Dettlaff's head and pulled him closer.

"You were to stay where you were. Regenerate." Dettlaff snarled, though unintentionally.

"I know you're in trouble. I can help." Regis pushed out through the pain.

"I'll help myself." Dettlaff tried to pull his claws out once again, but Regis held steady.

"No. He's my... friend." Regis looked Dettlaff in the eye, lip quivering ever so slightly. He silently pleaded with Dettlaff to let the object of his affections go.

Dettlaff snarled and removed his claws. As he turned into fog and flew away, Regis could feel his flesh knit back together. He could already feel his heart regrowing. Speaking of which, his heart metaphorically ached to simply touch Geralt again, to feel his warmth radiating from his body.

Regis turned around and smiled. "Yes, Geralt. It's me."

"Regis…? I… You alright?" Geralt couldn't believe his eyes. Regis didn't blame him. After all, Geralt did watch him die.

"All is well, all's in order." Regis nonchalantly reassured Geralt. "Wounds such as these heal on vampires in moments. But we've not seen one another in ages, my… friend. At least in human terms, that is."

"How's this even possible? Last I saw you--"

Regis moved to Geralt and embraced him in a long hug, taking in a good, long whiff of his scent. "I was a bubbling, shapeless smear, having been rather spectacularly melted into a column of a certain castle." They separated from each other, but still held on. As Geralt looked him up and down, Regis couldn't help but see him as absolutely adorable.

Oh, he wished he could just kiss Geralt until their lips grew numb.

He wished he could tell Geralt how he felt. He wished he could hold Geralt close until the end of time. He wished he could just sit with Geralt and kiss him all over.

Instead, Regis just hugged Geralt again.

"In somewhat better shape now, as you can see. Hardly peak form, mind you, but were I human, folk would think me a demigod, I would say."

"I'm sorry." Geralt truly looked sad, at least to Regis' well-trained eye. "What happened - it was my fault. Never got a chance to apologize."

"No need, Geralt." Regis walked off to sit on a crate. "I did not have to join you on that expedition. No one twisted my arm."

"Miraculous regeneration - how'd you manage it?"

"I had help. From the one you hunt." Regis pointedly mentioned.

"Him? How? And what've you been doing all these years?"

"Not the time nor place for such stories. I suspect we'll get a chance to speak at ease and at length later. Now, however, we must deal with the reason that brought us here."

\--------

"Let us find him by the time we do, I hope I'll have convinced you Dettlaff is no monster."

"Fine, alright already." Geralt was growing quite exasperated at Regis' insistence. "But for now, evidence is stacking up against him…" Geralt trailed off, suddenly realizing how close he and Regis were. When had they started closing the distance?

Just as Geralt started contemplating the little details and features of Regis' face, specifically his lips, the clattering sound of metal boots against cobblestone resounded, getting closer and closer.

"Hear that?" Regis stepped away from Geralt.

Geralt mentally cursed the knights, not quite knowing why he was suddenly upset. "The posse. Knights must've tracked me here."

"I'd prefer they not find me here. I've makeshift quarters at Mère-Lachaiselongue cemetary. We'll meet there." Regis gave Geralt one last hug.

"See you." Geralt managed to breathe in Regis' scent before he let go. Regis turned into fog and left through the window.

At that moment, a knight kicked down the door and ran in, followed by several other knights. Each and every single one had their sword drawn, ready to fight.

"Witcher! We flew here as fast as our coursers would carry us. Yet I fear we're late all the same! Pray, where is the Beast?!"

"Still investigating, about to inspect this site. Withdraw your men before they trample all over the evidence."

"Ahem, sirs! We must let the witcher do his work. Milton's murder cannot go unavenged." The presumed leader of the group left, taking the others with him. They shut the door behind them and left Geralt alone.

As soon as Geralt was unable to hear them, he wrapped his arms around himself and swayed slightly. Regis is alive. Alive! Alive and well! After all these years, Geralt finally reunited with one of the people he cared about most!

Regis was alive, and now, Geralt could touch him, talk to him, love him, and hug him! Oh, Geralt missed him so much! Seeing him again felt like a hole in Geralt's heart was filled, felt like a missing piece in Geralt's life had finally been found!

Wait, love?

Geralt chuckled quietly to himself. Of course his knee-jerk reaction would be to say that he loves Regis. But how could he, after all this time? He believed it to simply be impossible.

"Over half a decade? Come on. Even Yen and I never broke up for that long. Well, not counting the time we were dead, and all…"

But still, Geralt's feelings remained the same, even intensified with Regis' sudden reappearance. Geralt sat down on a crate, the same one Regis had sat on earlier, and bounced his leg. Unconsciously, he smiled.


	11. Chapter 11

Geralt dismounted Roach when he arrived at Corvo Bianco. Well, came home is more appropriate for the situation. All of the blood and bodies had been cleaned up so thoroughly Geralt could barely even smell them anymore. The ducal… whatever had clearly gone to great lengths to make this place liveable, even spraying perfume around everywhere. Speaking of which, he strong, pungent scent made Geralt dizzy, nauseous, and gave him watery eyes.

"Must be that Axe spray the young boys are using way too much of these days…" Geralt held his hand to his nostrils. It still smelled faintly of Regis.

Geralt walked up the steps leading to Corvo Bianco, where he was greeted by a bald man in a simple outfit, and yet it managed to capture the ridiculousness to it that nobles always seem to have. The weird guy had shades on that were similar to the ones Geralt's dead enemy, The Professor, always wore.

"Welcome home, sir." The bald man smiled and bowed slightly, as ettiquette stated he do. "I am Barnabas-Basil Foulty. By order of the Duchess, I shall serve you as majordomo of Corvo Bianco." At Geralt's nod, he continued. "I personally served with distinction at the Kniebihly family manor and in Nazair with Admiral Rompally, who, as you are certain to know, is an extraordinarily demanding gentleman…"

"Whoa, Barnabas-Basil." Geralt stopped Barnabas-Basil before he could go off on a tangent. "One thing you oughta know - I'm not your typical landed gentleman. Truth be told, this is the first real property I've ever owned…"

"Ooh, in that case, you must leave it all to me! I shall organize, see to everything and whip the house into order. I daresay this place will soon be the most prosperous vineyard around!"

"Great, can already see I'm in good hands." Geralt paused for a few seconds, thinking about what he should say next. "Vineyard comes across as a place with a rich history. Know who owned it before me?"

"Baron Rossell, who went bankrupt, forcing him to sell the estate to the Duchess. The Baron, in turn, had purchased it from Monsieur Bolius of the Headsmen… a truly colorful man, of Kaedweni origin."

"He was actually a headsman?"

"No, not him, but his great-great-great-great-grandfather?" Barnabas-Basil pondered a second. "Indeed. Apparantly, he was a common cutpurse…"

Geralt spaced out. Thoughts of Regis invaded his mind once again. Thoughts of Regis sitting next to him at a picnic, eating lunch with him as they watch the sunset. It seems as though Geralt can't get him out of his head today.

"…Bolius, on the other hand, was an engineer in his younger years. Once retired, he settled here and took to producing wine. Sadly, misfortune struck, and he lost his sense first of smell, then of taste. Additionally, he could not drink alcohol - his medic forbade it." Geralt slowly returned to the world of the living.

"Shame, that. He give up making wine?"

"Not at all!" Barnabas-Basil exclaimed. "He made even more of it! Began throwing wild balls to which he'd invite friends from far and wide, in order to treat them to his wine and delight in the fact that at least someone could enjoy it. It's the sort of man he was, Monsieur Bolius."

Geralt found that hard to believe, but he didn't say anything about it. "Mind giving me a tour de Corvo Bianco?"

"Not in the least. Follow me, please. I think it would be practical to begin on the hill."

\-------

"And welcome inside." Barnabas-Basil held the door open for Geralt. "On the left is the master bedroom. On the right, the dining hall and kitchen. Upstairs you shall find the guest room, currently used for storage."

"Not a bad idea." Geralt stepped inside and leaned on the wall.

"At the moment, the house is only minimally furnished, yet I believe we will, together, devise some innovative arrangements. A few paintings, for instance, would breathe new life into the abode immediately." Barnabas-Basil paused to breathe. "With that, sir, you've seen the full lay of the land… Corvo Bianco is a beautiful estate, though one must admit time has taken its toll. I… Forgive me for being so forward, but if you were to choose to invest a small sum towards its beautification, consider me at your service on the matter."

"Think I'll take you up on that." Geralt dug out a large coin purse, one that he couldn't even hold in one hand, from his back pocket. "Here. Make the place look nice. And functional, too."

"O-oh my…" Barnabas-Basil struggled to lift it up and keep it in his arms. "All this coin? Huff, huff, how much is in here?!"

"Fourteen-thousand crowns. Think that'll be enough." Geralt nonchalantly told him.

"Uh, sir Geralt…" Barnabas-Basil dropped the coin purse, thankfully not on anyone's foot. It landed on the floor with a cracking sound. "I… I will be sure to put it to good use. I will hire the best to rejuvenate the estate. You will not be disappointed."

"Mhm, think I'm gonna take a quick nap, now."

"Sweet dreams, sir. I'll try to direct the renovators to make as little of a disturbance as possible."

Barnabas-Basil had a sinking feeling that that wouldn't be the last of the weird shit Geralt would do.

\--------

Geralt was disturbed by a sudden jerking motion. He groaned and curled up into a ball. His own voice seemed muffled to his ears, even though he was sleeping on his back. Everything was peaceful for a few moments before there was another jerking motion, this time something seemed to hit the bed. Geralt could hear voices, though they sounded as though they were underwater.

"………"

"…….."

Someone wrapped his blanket around him, shifting the pillow so that it was stuck between him and the blanket. Geralt pushed the hands off and attempted to go back to sleep, though they were persistent. Geralt groaned and lifted his head off the pillow. As soon as he opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong. He couldn't see a damn thing. Geralt tugged the eye mask off, taking the warm, fuzzy earmuffs with them.

Four burly guys had each taken a corner of Geralt's bed and were lifting it up in the air. A fifth guy was standing next to Geralt, clearly the culprit of trying to wrap Geralt up like a burrito and carry him out. All of the strangers shared a glance with each other, sheepish at being caught.

"So, anyone wanna explain why you're trying to move my bed with me still in it?" Even when snuggled up in blankets and sitting in his bed, Geralt still managed to look intimidating. "And why did you put things on me that dampened my senses?"

Without a word, the men put Geralt's bed down. They slowly backed out of the room. As soon as they were all out they literally ran away, screaming at the top of their lungs. A few servants poked their heads in the entrance.

"What the fuck." Was all Geralt could say.

Barnabas-Basil walked into the room, bowing his head. "Terribly sorry about that, sir. I do not know why they did that. If I had known they would try to bring your bed out with you sleeping in it, I would have stopped it immediately. I humbly beg your forgiveness, sir."

"Uh…" Geralt was still weirded out by the whole situation. "You're forgiven." Geralt wriggled out of all the sheets, accidentally tearing a few when they got caught on his armor. "I should probably go, now."

"I would recommend that, if only to avoid another… incident." Barnabas-Basil scratched the back of his head.

Geralt adjusted his armor and swords and left the building, leaving behind several curious servants and a very ashamed majordomo. Said majordomo gathered up his eye mask and earmuffs before hiding them in his pouch. He desperately hoped Geralt wouldn't find out he authorized the men to move the bed, which in hindsight was a very stupid idea.

\--------

"Well." Milly watched the master of the estate leave his house, grumbling something about how the world is full of idiots. "That just happened. I've only been here for a few hours, and… that was a thing that just happened."

Milly's parents stood behind her, watching the master leave. "…Was that a witcher?" Her mom asked.

"Looks like it." Milly's dad replied. They shared a look with each other while Milly walked off to continue her servant duties.

"We need to talk about this." Milly's mom led her husband to where there were no prying ears.

\--------

The slight stench of rotting corpses wafted into Geralt's nose as he rode into Mere-Lachaiselongue Cemetery. He scrunched his nose up as he dismounted Roach. A ball of acid shot towards them, barely missing, and sending Roach into a panic.

"Dammit!" Geralt drew his sword and cast quen as he dashed towards an annoying archespore. He cut it clean through the stalk, sending the top half spiraling to the ground. "Wow, they don't usually go down so eas-"

Geralt got hit in the back full force by another ball of acid and fell face-first into the blood and guts of the dead archespore. His quen took most of the damage, but the acid still seeped through it into Geralt's armor, which dissolved and left a gaping hole.

Geralt snarled and looked back to see another archespore, seemingly mocking him for his sudden deafness. It even tilted its head back and made a cackling noise before reverting into its pod and travelling to another.

Wasting no time, Geralt stood up and recast quen. He dodged another acid ball, coming from his left. Geralt whipped out his crossbow, taking aim and shooting the archespore where it would hurt the most.

"Won't keep me from Regis!" Geralt shouted in an uncharacteristic bout of rage. He shot again and again and again, at the archespore, at the pods, and at its tendrils until the monster stopped moving. Geralt put away his crossbow and took a deep breath, then he approached the archespore, sword in hand and ready for combat.

He approached slowly, moving ever so quietly, keeping his breathing in check. Just when he got close to the archespore and let his guard down, the archespore came alive and struck. It grabbed his ankle and yanked him into the air, making his skull hit the ground before stopping just short of making Geralt fly into the air like a helpless, screaming wolf.

Geralt slashed at the tentacles, cutting them off and dropping him on his head. Geralt groaned as he got up, checking for blood and a concussion. Once satisfied there was no major damage, Geralt cast igni, turning his hand into a flamethrower. He burnt and burnt and burnt the archespore until it was nothing more than a pile of charcoal. Geralt huffed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Regis. Couldn't have picked some other place to meet…?" Despite the battle that just took place, Geralt could only think about Regis, and meeting up with him and… talking. Geralt didn't know what exactly he wanted from their next interaction, but he knew he wanted more than just a friendly chat.

Geralt went up to the only building in the area and knocked on the door hard. "Regis! …Dammit, locked. No way I got the place wrong. This is it, gotta be. Gotta be another way in around here."

\------

Regis heard Geralt knocking on the door and giggled like a young child in love for the first time. He cleared his throat and stood up, putting the book he was reading to the side. He patted down his clothes, wiping off imaginary dirt and dust, and then smoothed out his hair. Regis realized with a grimace that he should have done that in the reverse order, but oh well.

For the first time in years, Regis was giddy. His knight in shining armor was going through dangerous monsters, journeying in search of his "prince"-slash-"damsel in distress" locked away in a cathedral. It was just like those human fairy tales Regis loves so much! Regis nearly swooned at the thought of Geralt bursting through the door, carrying Regis bridal style as he kisses him all over, and then bringing him to his fairy-tale castle to be wed and to live out the rest of their days in their happily ever after!

Regis knew anyone that read his thoughts in that moment would definitely think him a young peasant girl crushing on one of the local knights, but he didn't care. He's had his affections for Geralt unreturned for years, damn it, and he doesn't give a shit about how he "should" be in love!

A loud noise Regis couldn't identify pierced the air. That must be Geralt. Regis gave his outfit a quick once-over, adjusting his belt so it drew attention to his hip. Once Regis was satisfied, he walked casually to the edge of the platform, as though he wasn't just submerged in romantic fantasies a minute ago.

"Agreed to meet a vampire at a cemetary. How much more cliche can you get?" Geralt stood below him, clearly frustrated by the minor obstacles Regis put in his way. He wasn't a knight in shining armor, his armor wasn't even clean, but Regis thought he looked dashing anyway.

"Hahaha. Nothing comes readily to mind."

"Could've left the door unlatched."

"And what of my privacy?" Regis pretended to be hurt. "I value it rather deeply. Unmolested, especially by unwanted guests - that's my preferred state. Besides, I knew you'd find a way to get in." Regis smiled at Geralt, replaying the scene from his imagination.

\-------

"True enough. Need to find your friend. I'm hoping you'll agree to help." Geralt wished he could simply have a nice conversation with Regis, but finding Dettlaff was a priority.

"I shall do whatever's in my power." Regis disappeared behind a pillar, and reappeared immediately by Geralt's side. Geralt didn't mind that Regis was just a little too close again. "Yet what you want or even need must matter little. What matters is what Dettlaff wants. If he does not wish to be found, you will not find him. Ever. End of story."

"Come on, gotta be some way…"

Regis swayed his hips as he walked to his personal library, a fact that drew Geralt's attention. "Hm. Vampires can evade detection by the senses, and no divination magic works on us. Even the most precise megascope would be useless…"

Geralt sat at the table, pouting dramatically. He was about to whine so much his mouth would go numb, a skill he has honed well over the course of a century and two decades, when a lock of black hair on the table caught his attention. "What's this? Doesn't look like it belongs to you.." Geralt picked up the lock and held it to Regis. It was clearly too long to be Regis'.

"That's…" Regis swallowed. "Dettlaff's hair. He had a panic attack here, a few hours before we, meaning you and I, reunited."

\-------

_Regis opened the door, expecting everything to be peaceful within his quarters. Instead, he heard screaming, crashing, and pitiful wails. Regis poofed down the stairs, prepared to fight an invader or banish a restless spirit, but it was just Dettlaff. Dettlaff, who was covered in books, hiding his face, and shrieking his lungs out. His weighted overcoat, his favorite comfort item, was missing._

_"Dettlaff!" Regis ran to his side and tapped his arms. "Dettlaff! Can you hear me?"_

_No response. Dettlaff grabbed a lock of his hair, on his hairline, and yanked it clean out. Regis restrained his wrists above his head to prevent further self harm._

_"Dettlaff," Regis said in a soothing voice. "You're going to be fine. The turmoil your body's going through - it'll pass soon. You just need time."_

_"Louis…" Dettlaff sobbed. "Louis, I'm so sorry…"_

_"Let it all out. Don't hold anything in."_

_"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I don't want to hurt you…" Snot ran freely out of Dettlaff's nostrils down his face. "I don't want you to be hurting…"_

_Regis was surprised Dettlaff could still talk in this state. He laid down on Dettlaff's chest, acting as a substitute for Dettlaff's beloved coat. The act seemed to help Dettlaff calm down, as he wasn't so loud anymore. Dettlaff babbled, his coherency leaving him in seconds._

_They stayed like that for a few minutes before Dettlaff's emotions evened out. He sniffled one last time before nudging at Regis to move. He obliged, letting go of Dettlaff's wrists and helping him to his feet._

_"Are you alright? What brought that on?" Regis caught Dettlaff when his knees gave out on him._

_"Y-yes, I am fine. I am just stressed out." Dettlaff smiled through his tears, which still poured from his eyes. As soon as his lie was pushed through his teeth, he buried his face into Regis' shoulder, crying loudly._

_Regis hugged Dettlaff, ensuring that enough pressure was applied to him to make a difference. "Are you sure? You only get panic attacks when you're in serious trouble."_

_"I. Am. Fine." Dettlaff forcefully repeated. It didn't have the desired effect, as he sobbed even harder._

_"Let us sit down." Regis sat in a chair, taking Dettlaff with him to sit in his lap. Dettlaff curled up into a ball and tapped his ankles together to comfort-stim himself. Regis rubbed small circles into his back as he rocked them both gently in the seat._

_"I-I need… books. Human books." Dettlaff choked out as he clutched his ripped-out hair._

_"Of course. Why don't you put your hair down and we can find something, huh?" Dettlaff put his hair down on the table, then he hugged Regis again. Regis adjusted Dettlaff until he could easily be carried without being disturbed, then did just that. "What exactly are you looking for?"_

_"Human biology. The basics. Enough for a human to stay alive."_

_Regis furrowed his eyebrows, but he searched the bookcase for a grade school anatomy and physiology textbook. "Dettlaff, look. I found something that might be useful to you."_

\------

"I lent him a few of my books, and then he took off, yelling something about a "Margaret." I believe she is a member of his pack." With that, Regis ended the story.

"He say what he was gonna do or go to?"

"Unfortunately, no. Dettlaff tends to close up when he gets emotional. A habit I've been trying to work out of him since I could talk again."

"Hmm." Geralt glanced at the hair in his hand. "Maybe this could help track him down."

Regis took the hair from Geralt. He closely examined it, noting the root sheathes on each hair. "…Maybe. I hope."

"The hair, what do you plan to do with it?"

Regis looked back to Geralt. "You've heard of Covinarius' theory of tissue memory retention?"

"Hm. Rings a distant bell." Geralt thought for a minute on where he heard it from. "Read about it in "Alchemia Oblittera." There's a copy at Kaer Morhen, tattered, nearly disintefrated. But if memory serves, Covinarius never managed to prove it worked."

"He did manage to prove it." Regis corrected. "Just never managed to publish his findings. He and I corresponded, you see, after we became friends. Thus I know he completed his research and performed the first tests. It's complicated, so without diving into details, it is possible to use any piece of tissue to reconstruct what a whole body experienced."

"How's it work? We need any special equipment?" Geralt sat up, ready to take out his alchemy equipment, or coin if need be.

"We must brew a decoction which Covinarius gave a rather poetic name - Resonance. Once imbibed, it sends one into a trance similar to that induced by narcotics. This triggers visions of events linked to strong emotions experienced by the tissue's owner. Picture it as dreaming a fragment of someone's life."

"Any chance we might see what Dettlaff was doing just before he killed de la Croix?"

"Indeed. Though I also hope Resonance will reveal the location of Dettlaff's hideout." Regis seemed to look more tired. It's clear that recent events have taken its toll on him. He hid it well, but Geralt could see through it clear as day. He's spent too long gazing at Regis' face to not tell with these things. Regis always was too good for his own good.

A question nagged at the back of Geralt's mind, which he decided to voice. "Can't you just summon Dettlaff? You're both higher vampires, there's gotta be a way…" Geralt immediately realized how stupid he sounded and almost made a face.

"If I'm entirely candid, there is indeed one." Geralt was shocked that Regis could actually summon him. It must have shown on his face, for Regis continued. "But believe me, we will be better off never availing ourselves of it. It is a last resort. Absolutely."

"Last resort? The hell. Why?"

"Agh." Regis clearly did not want to discuss this, but he did so anyway. "There is a being who can summon Dettlaff. Possesses the authority, even the power, to force him to appear in a given place. But the very act of contacting this being, well, it's akin to walking a slack line extended over a chasm filled with molten lava. An excersize as perilous to me as it would be to you - a risk I'm unwilling to take. I beg you, let's do it my way - it'll be both quicker and easier."

Geralt sighed and moved on. "Covinarius spent half his life proving his theory. Wild guess - making a dose of Resonance won't be easy."

"You guess correctly. In addition to Dettlaff's tissue, we shall need a powerful occipatal lobe stimulant - effectively a poison to make one susceptible to visions."

"Hm. Well, got a few ingredients to choose from." As Geralt prattled on the possible supplies they could use, Regis fetched a bottle of booze from a low wine rack.

"Hmm… Given that we lack the time to sleuth this out ourselves, permit me to summon some help." With that, Regis walked away. Geralt stared at his lovely backside for a few seconds before getting up and tailing Regis outside.

Regis opened the door, leaving it like that for Geralt. He went up to a raven and initiated a silent conversation with it. They stared at each other for several seconds before the raven flapped its wings and took off, taking the other ravens with it. Regis went back up to Geralt.

"What was that?" Geralt asked.

"A raven. Rather a common sight at this latitude. Very intelligent fowl." Regis sassed. "I asked him to look for the creatures you mentioned, plus Dettlaff, of course. Him and his brethren. Perhaps they'll find one in the area. And I would hazard that a flock of ravens will spy any said creature faster than a solitary witcher would - with all due respect to your skills, my… friend. It will tale them some time, nonetheless, so…" Regis held up the bottle of alcohol to Geralt. "Perhaps you'd care for a snifter of mandrake?"

"Rarely say no to a snifter." Geralt smirked slightly.

"Sadly, his is but a weal infusion, rather than a proper distillate." Regis regretted to inform Geralt.

"Even better. I remember your mandrake hooch." Geralt and Regis sat on some nearby sarcophigi, across from each other. "Made people say things they'd have rather kept to themselves." Geralt noted that Regis' bottle was placed directly on his crotch. He tried not to let his mind wander.

"Now, what could Geralt of Rivia prefer to keep to himself?"

"So, think you've set a nice little trap for me? Sorry." Geralt smirked and took the bottle from Regis. Regis seemed to have genuinely been hurt, if the way his eyes dulled were any indication. "Wanna get me to confess? Gonna have to try harder."

Regis laughed, and his eyes lit back up immediately. "I love a challenge! In that case, my ears are cocked - what must I do?"

Geralt drank and thought for a bit. "Hm… how about you get the ball rolling, reveal one of your secrets? Vampires," Geralt leaned forward and handed the booze back. "Intriguing creatures, must lead fascinating lives."

Regis smiled at the subtle compliment. "Anything in particular interest you?"

"Curious what you did after you were… reborn."

"As I'm sure you can surmise, at first I was thoroughly absorbed with recovering. As it is, I've still not recovered completely. Yet I was so weak the first year that I could not stand nor move on my own. Dettlaff bore my weakness bravely, showed great patience. If not for him, I wouldn't be here, and I'd have regenerated far slower." Regis drank and infentionally put the bottle on his crotch again. "Once I could at last stand unassisted, I set off for Brugge, for my one-time home of Dilingen. There I led the peaceful life of a rural healer and surgeon, and taught the general populace the basics of healing, even taking on a few apprentices." Regis drank again, unsure if he should continue. "When… when I found out you were alive, and I was confident my assistants could continue my duties without me, I left one in charge and set off in search of you."

"Really? How long were you looking?"

"Over a year." Regis admitted. "I found you at last when I saw you in the arena. I couldn't believe my eyes. I was looking for you for so long, and there you were, standing proudly, fresh from the fight. I wanted to run up and… re-introduce myself, but then the Duchess started talking to you. You two were taking a very long time, so I turned my back for a few minutes, and when I looked back, you were gone. I thought fate to be playing a cruel trick on me." Regis handed the bottke to Geralt. "But enough about that, where have you been? Ever find your Cirilla?"

Geralt drank. "Back then, yeah. But we parted again soon after. And when the time was ripe, she came back. Defeated the Wild Hunt together."

"Oo, seems I certainly missed quite a bit while I was… absent!" Regis took the bottle back, using it to subtly draw attention to groin. He dragged his thumb across the neck.

"True enough. But it's a conversation we'll have another time. Need to know more about you, now." Geralt notices Regis' ministrations, and suddenly couldn't think of anything else. His mouth moved before his brain could catch up. "Are you single?"

"Oh!" Regis was pleasantly surprised. He grinned wide, not even bothering to hide his fangs. "Are you-"

"Lemme rephrase that…" Geralt scratched the back of his head, missing how Regis' face fell. "You still seeing that succubus?"

"No, no." Regis looked down at his feet, avoiding Geralt's gaze. So he wasn't interested after all. "Long story short, after my regeneration, I went to see her. She hated me and wanted nothing to do with me. It's complicated, so I'll spare you the details, but during our casual relationship she had fallen in love with me. She thought I had abandoned her after she perceived me to have caught on to her." Regis gulped down his hooch. "But let's move on from that. Are you still in that relationship with Yennefer?"

"Not really…" Geralt sighed and took the bottle. He drank from it before elaborating. "Know that wish I told you about, how it binds us together? Yennefer wanted to be reversed, to feel more secure about… what we were. When it was gone, I didn't feel the same way for her. I know I still loved her, but it wasn't the same. Didn't know how exactly I felt anymore, so we decided to just… break up. Still don't know how I feel. Yen's with Triss, now." Geralt handed the bottle to Regis.

"Remind me, who is Triss?"

"Triss Merigold. One of my exes. Met a long time ago. We've had an on-again, off-again thing. Last breakup was horrible."

"Ah. It seems we've both had bad luck when it comes to relationships…" Regis didn't voice just how unlucky he felt, sitting in front of Geralt and yet not being able to call him his love. He drank again.

"So…" Geralt looked for a way to change the subject. "Always fascinated me the way vampires can regenerate. A hand growing back is one thing, but Dettlaff recreating you out of a wet smear? Something else entirely."

"A difficult and laborious process, but one that's possible - as my prescence proves." Regis gave the bottle to Geralt. "But, but, but… I've heard you too had quite the adventure." Geralt drank a small sip and let Regis continue. "They say you lost your memory."

"For a bit, but Triss helped me get it back. Actually pretty damn lucky I only had amnesia." Geralt gave the bottle to Regis.

"Yes, you humans are rather buggered in those terms." Regis began. "To strip you of life is, well, just plain easy. I've always pitied you in that regard." Regis drank and continued. "We vampires are much harder nuts to crack. If a member of another race kills one of us, we can be reborn with a living higher vampire's help." Regis drank again. "However, if one of our own strikes the deadly blow, death is permanent. There can be no rebirth. One of the chief reasons why vampires long ago swore never to fight one another."

The pause in the conversation indicated Regis was done. "Alright, give you one question. What do you want to know?"

"One question to ask one as fascinating as you, Geralt? Cruel parsimony, I'd say." Regis pouted and gave Geralt the bottle. "But I shall do my best to make it count." Regis turned his head to the side and pondered what to say. "If you were to be reborn as I was… in your new life, would you choose to be a witcher?"

"See, Regis…" Geralt drank. "Doubt I'd know how to be anything else."

"Ever tried?"

"See you're determined to get an answer. To find out if I like being a witcher. Just refuse to ask directly, like always." Geralt guessed. Regis smiled at him, indicating he was correct. Geralt drank to suppress the feelings springing up inside him. "I like being on the Path. Like picking up a lead, a trail… I like the tension right before a fight. And nothing gets my adrenaline flowing like battling a beast. Even gotten used to people treating me like a freak, an outcast." Geralt thought about his early days, before he managed to develop a thick skin against all of the racism. He drank, needing to forget the memory. "Not something I think about much, but I like being a witcher." Geralt gave the almost-empty bottle to Regis.

"Thank you for being honest. Honesty's an attribute of the truly brave - and thus a priveledge of the very few."

Geralt looked around for the ravens, which were nowhere to be found. "Still no sign of your winged friend... Sure it understood what you wanted?"

"Dead certain. Let's wait a bit longer. It'll return soon, don't doubt that for a moment." Regis told Geralt. He was struck by an idea. "I know of a… fun activity we could do in the meantime." Regis' voice took on a sultry tone, accompanied by a slight waggling of his eyebrows.

"Like what?"

"…A card game. Or something along those lines." Regis cursed himself as he chickened out at the last second. Where was his confidence and suaveness he used to charm many a lover into his bed in the past when the man he actually loves was sitting right there?!

"Sure. Ever play Gwent?"

"Not really. I just have a standard deck of cards."

"Then I'll give you one of my decks. Move over, I'll show you how to play…"


	12. Chapter 12

At some point, while Geralt had been reclining on a tombstone, he had drifted off into dreamland. Regis knelt in front of him and examined his sleeping form. With his eyes closed, lips parted, relaxed shoulders, and one hand just below his belly, he looked peaceful. Serene. Beautiful.

Regis smiled. Oh, how he wished he could cuddle up in bed with him, just like the time Angouleme set the tents on fire, but in a much more… romantic setting. A cemetery wouldn't do at all, especially since Geralt did not reciprocate his feelings. Regis silently cursed when he accidentally made himself sad again. He decided to resolve his feelings by gazing more on Geralt's sleeping form.

Not realizing how creepy watching someone sleep is, Regis took off his belt and shrugged off his coat. He laid his coat on top of Geralt, smiling when he nuzzled into it unconsciously. A lock of hair came loose from Geralt's head and landed in his face, threatening to tickle him awake. Regis reached towards him and brushed aside the stray lock. His hand lungered, cupping Geralt's cheek. Regis' thumb traced small circles into Geralt's cheekbone. He didn't realize Geralt had woken up until he made eye contact with him.

"I- Ah- Sorry, there was a… a hair in your face. It was bothering me." Regis shot his hand back as though he had been burned. He cleared his throat. "Go back to sleep, Geralt."

Geralt didn't believe him for a second, but he let it slide. There was more important things to be doing, like taking a cat nap, for example. Geralt pulled his new blanket up higher, relishing in Regis' scent. He was easily lulled to sleep by the comforting smell of spices and something he couldn't name but was entirely Regis. As such, he very easily missed how much Regis smiled at him embracing his jacket.

\-------

Geralt reawoke to Regis telepathically communicating with a raven. They seemed to discuss something before the raven flew off. Regis turned around and noticed Geralt was awake.

"Ever vigilant, even in his sleep. Quite vampire-like, in fact. Are you absolutely certain they don't administer a few of our genes during the Trial of the Grasses?" Regis commented as soon as he registered Geralt was awake.

"Appreciate the compliment." Geralt let Regis know as he stood up. "Got something for me?"

"You were right. No kobolds or mamunes - for miles around--" Regis started as Geralt came towards him.

"Knew it."

"Allow me to finish. You see, there's this spotted wight. It haunts an abandoned residence in the Caroberta Woods."

"Impossible. My brethren hunted down evey last spotted wight before I was born." Geralt pointed out.

"Then it seems you must revise your knowledge of spotted wights. For somehow this one managed to survive your brethren's onslaught." Regis turned his head, rubbed his chin, and hm-ed. "It seems I know this home it haunts - recall a tald about it… Locals believe the place cursed. Perhaps that's how the wight survived, entirely unmolested."

"Wights rarely appear in the woods, even less likely to find them un abandoned human homes. They inhabit remote wildernesses, old, abandoned cemeteries…"

"What's your point?"

"This might not be a spotted wight after all. your little helper might've made a mistake." Geralt pointed out as he looked at one of the said birds. It hissed at him and performed what Geralt guessed was an offensive gesture to birds.

"I sincerely doubt it. Ravens are devilishly intelligent creatures. And they've highly developed observational skills." Regis earned himself a few happy chirps from that.

"What exactly did they observe?" Geralt questioned.

"The area around the estate, it's covered in…" Regis paused. "Spoons."

"Spoons?" The corner's of Geralt's lips lifted up.

"Spare me the skeptical smile, I'm but the bearer of this news. Perhaps this spotted wight is a hoarder? Or the spoons are somehow related to the curse?" Regis listed off a few theories.

"Hmm." Geralt accepted that answer. "Know anything else about the curse?"

"I don't recall much in particular. Really don't attach much importance to such things. It was mentioned to me, as an anecdote, no more…"

"Come on. Search your memory - something, anything, could be important."

"Hmm…" Regis tilted his head and rubbed his chin. "I believe it haf a relation to hunger… or no, perhaps greed, rapacity? Someone was punished for something…" Regis trailed off, signaling the end of what he knew.

"Textbook definition of a curse, pretty much."

"Sorry, Geralt, I try not to clutter my mind with the details of every far-fetched tale I happen to hear." Regis sassed. Geralt considered something for a moment. "What are your thoughts?"

"A specimen of a species thoght long-extinct… and a curse - in one place. That a coincedence, or are they related?"

"Ah, professional curiosity. Personally I've nothing against you delving into this dilemma, but please remember we need the wight's saliva. Nothing beyond that." Regis was quick to steer Geralt's mind back to his mission.

Geralt decided to just move on. "Let's do this - start making your decoction while I go get some saliva from that wight. Uses it in its brews." Geralt was referring to the fact that wights make vile concoctions from whatever it can find, and they use their own spit in the concoction to break down the substances and make it digestible for them.

"Do you imagine the wight will simply sell you some?" Regis sassed again.

"Worst case scenario, I'll bring you its salivary glands. They oughta do as well."

Regis snorted. "For a moment there I imagined you asking the ight to spit into a vial. But the salivary glands will do fine, indeed."

"So, see you later."

"Yes, till later." Regis and Geralt took off in opposite directions. "I shall start by perusing some tomes."

"Tomes?" Geralt turned around. "Thought you were gonna make this decoction."

"We requite one last ingredient. Alas, obtaining it could prove a trifle toilsome. Thus I hope to identify a suitable alternative."

"All right. Good luck."

"And to you, my… friend. Stay safe. I mean it."

\------

"Milly, would you come with me for a minute?" Milly's father gestured for her to come outside.

Milly sighed and put down the book she was reading, a very small textbook on summoning monsters hidden inside a shitty hetero romance novel called "Moribundia: The Last Vampire's Likeness." She got up and followed her father. She hoped he wouldn't get on her again for being lazy, or so her parents liked to think of her as.

Milly's father led her to a natural platform overlooking Corvo Bianco, where no one ever went to save for the master of the estate, and he had gone out earlier to avoid the renovations.

"Sit down." Milly's father requested. Milly interpreted it as an order and sat on a bench. "Now, your mother and I, we've been talking…"


	13. Chapter 13

"Barghests… never a good omen…" Geralt talked to himself as a few of said monsters howled before lunging at him.

Geralt reflexively slammed the ground with yrden, creating a magical trap around him. The two closest barghests leaped into the trap, reacting too late to avoid it. Now that the barghests were slowed down, Geralt cut one, then pirouetted to slash the other in the muzzle. The other four barghests avoided the trap, circling around it and snarling.

Geralt dodged a lunging set of jaws and teeth, letting it land to the ground with a thud. Geralt plunged his sword deep into its skull and twisted it with a sharp yank of his wrists. The barghest howled one last time before disintegrating into a pile of glowing dust.

The other barghest in the circle took the opportunity to bite down hard into Geralt's thigh, piercing the armor into his flesh. Geralt exhaled sharply and stabbed the demonic animal, forcing it to let go. It took a good chunk of Geralt's armor with it, spitting it out. At that moment, the yrden trap ran out of magic. It dissipated, the runes expelling purple sparkles into the air.

The remaining barghests attacked Geralt at once, giving him no time to react. They came at him from all sides, tearing into his armor. Geralt did not allow himself to be toppled and casted aard. The resulting force blasted away two of the dogs, taking half of his gauntlet and the armor on his other leg with them.

Geralt hacked off the head of the barghest on his other arm, unfortunately too late to save the respective gauntlet. He kicked the last barghest off and pirouetted to finish off the barghests who decided taking him on by themselves was a good idea. Granted, coming at him from opposite sides was clever, but still.

The stunned barghest was all too easy to kill. All Geralt had to do was stomp on the head and crush it beneath his boot. Geralt looked around to confirm that all enemies were dead, then down at his armor. Geralt frowned at the state of it. The barghests had truly gone to town with it, for his pants, boots, and gauntlets were halfway destroyed. On top of the gaping hole in his chest armor left by the archespore earlier. And Geralt forgot to pack any armor repair kits with him, too!

If Geralt had to fight the wight, he just might not make it.

"Need to be careful, oil my sword." Geralt proceeded to take the necrophage oil and rub it all over his silver sword. He regretted that Roach had been too scared of this place to come near it. At the very least, she could have had something in her saddlebags to patch up the armor until he could get it repaired.

Geralt finished up and proceeded to walk through the estate called "Trastamara Hunting Cottage." Large clouds of dust obstructed his vision, making him cough when he accidentally inhaled it. It was quite befitting for a supposedly cursed area, desolate, barren, dark, and devoid of life. Chimes rattled through the air with a sick melody created by the winds pushing on spoons on strings. Geralt gently roxked himself back and forth to comfort himself. If there is one thing that made a place creepy for him, it was wind chimes.

"Regis' raven wasn't lying. Spoons, all over the place." Geralt mentioned to himself as the most prominent house on the estate came into view. He entered the courtyard, where several more spoon chimes resided. "Strange… get a sense that the spoons are beating out some kind of rhythm, a message… trying to tell me something."

Geralt shook his head, disregarding it. He passed by the dead fountain filled with filthy water and stood in front of the house. He looked up just before going inside and found an inscription carved into the wall just above the door.

""None shall sit and dine with you at your table, no spoon you have shall sate you, never again shall you wish to spy your reflection in the mirror." Sounds like a curse, alright…"

\-------

Geralt easily took out the straggling barghests that stood in his way. Now that he wasn't being swarmed, it was a simple matter to kill them. Once Geralt was done wiping the dust off his sword, he sheathed it and re-followed the strong stench of wight. The trail led him to an old woman sitting on a rock, gasping and wheezing for air. As soon as she spotted him, she threw her hands in front of her face.

"Shh, easy, not gonna hurt you." Geralt soothed the woman as he took a few cautious steps forward.

The woman lowered her hands, recognizing the man who broke the curse on her. "Eat… I must… eat!"

Geralt crouched down and guided Marlene into his arms. He picked her up, mindful of the swords strapped to his back. "I'll take you somewhere safe."

\------

"Hello, Geralt, I presume you have the- Oh my word!" Regis set the ladle he was using to stir the concoction down and ran up to Geralt. "Who is she? What happened to her?"

"She's the wight. Lifted the curse on her. She hasn't eaten anything in over a hundred years." Geralt sat Marlene down in a chair. "Could you check her to see-"

"Already on it." Regis began his physical on Marlene.

"Need! Food! Why… won't you give me?!" Marlene struggled, attempting to stand. Regis pushed her down. "I'm so hungry!"

Regis looked her dead in the eye, and Marlene immediately calmed down. "We will get you something to eat. First, we need to make sure eating won't hurt you. I'm going to do an examination on you, then, if you don't have any medical conditions that would be upset by food intake, we will give you a snack and some water. How about that?"

"Uh… Okay…"

"Good. Now, hold still for me…"

\------

"Don't eat so fast. Your food isn't going anywhere." Regis held Marlene's hands in place when she started shoveling food into her mouth.

"…So Regis and I decided to take her here. Seemed the only sensible place for her." Geralt stood in his newly refurnished home and watched Marlene eat a small meal of berries, bread, and scrambled eggs. Regis was monitoring her as well, making sure she doesn't eat too much too fast. He didn't want her to develop re-feeding syndrome, after all.

"You did the right thing, sir. She should recover quickly here." Barnabas-Basil subtly praised Geralt. "Don't worry, sirs, I shall see to everything. I will hire a doctor to monitor her recovery. She'll soon be back on her feet."

"Might actually take a while - she hadn't eaten anything in over a hundred years when I found her."

"Horrid… whatever brought this about?"

"Told me her story on the way here." Geralt began. "Her name's Marlene…"

\-----

Milly breathed deep through her nose as she performed calming breathing exercises. She thumbed the vial given to her. Once again, she regretted that she had to be the one to do this. Milly turned around to check no one was looking. Geralt, the name of her master and the one who wanted the tea, was resting in his bedroom. The majordomo was off to presumably contact a doctor for the ugly old lady, and the old man with her, presumably her husband, was sitting in the small dining room. He was reading a book about medical stuff. Milly didn't understand a lick of what she saw of it.

Milly turned back to the tea on the main hall table, silently berating rich people for thinking they need two different places to eat next to each other in the very same house. Milly breathed deep again, pouring the tea into a cup. She desperately wished the myth of witchers being able to hear heartbeats wasn't based on reality. She took the vial out and carefully uncorked it, managing to only open it with a very soft pop. Milly slowly poured the strong poison in, not daring to risk getting it on her by stirring it in yet. This particular poison could kill with just contact on skin, or so she was told.

A hand grabbed her wrist so strongly Milly thought it would crush her. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!?!"

Milly was startled so badly she broke the vial in her hand, shattering it into pieces and badly cutting the skin on her hand.


	14. Chapter 14

Milly unclenched her fist, letting bloody, wet shards of glass fall into the teacup and on the table. She slowly turned her shaking hand over so that the palm faced upwards. Large pieces of the shattered vial had pierced her hand, allowing the poison to enter her body and start destroying it from within.

Milly tried to make a sound, tried to speak, even utter a curse, but her lungs simply would not cooperate with her. Someone touched her. Milly gasped for air, drool leaking from her mouth and all over her dress and arm. Milly felt an intense wave of dizziness and nausea, and suddenly she was… somewhere else now. Her hand was submerged in water, being forcefully spun around. It wasn't nearly as bad as her head, though.

The person touching her pulled away, and Milly collapsed, heart hurting like never before, getting random period cramps from hell, and feeling so hot she felt like she was melting. Someone lifted her up and slapped her. Milly opened her eyes (when had she closed them?) and met face to face with the master of the house.

If Milly's mouth had cooperated with her, she would have cursed as many curse words as she could before she lost consciousness.

\------

"Child, no!" Regis begged the girl to stay conscious in vain. She slumped in his arms and lolled her head. "Shit! Geralt, do you have any charcoal?"

Geralt checked the burning logs in the kitchen furnace. "Don't think so. Ask the servants, maybe?" Geralt sniffed the air. "Wait a minute… Cyanide? The hell?"

"She poisoned herself." Regis informed him as he lifted the girl up. "I'm taking her to Mere-Lachaiselongue, I might be able to treat her there."

"Okay. I'll investigate the cyanide."

With that, Regis adjusted the girl and took off as fast as he could without hurting the human in his arms. He raced through the countryside, reaching his temporary home in a matter of seconds. He laid the girl down on his cot and proceeded to rifle through his medical supplies until he found a bowl, some water, tweezers, and charcoal dust. He returned to the girl and began cleaning out her hand, removing the glass, pouring water on her hand into the bowl, and rubbing charcoal in. In the back of his mind, Regis noticed that whenever he touched her, dread shot down his spine, but the girl seemed to fare slightly better. He decided to keep skin contact with her, just in case it did help her. Besides, he's done all he could for her. The only thing he could do is wait for her to either get better, or to die.

"Don't worry, miss. I'll be here. You won't die alone." Regis held her hand, careful not to disturb the cuts. Fear seeped through the fibre of his being, as though he was the one dying, not her.

\------

Milly woke up in a cold sweat, shaking and shivering. She gasped for air as though she had been drowning. Milly vaguely registered the soft pressure of her hand being held. She tried to open her eyes, which was surprisingly difficult. They were heavy and crusted over, begging her to go back to sleep. Milly persisted, finally allowing herself to see. An old man was looking away from her, and apparently was the one holding her hand. Milly looked around, and saw she was in a stone structure. It seemed… death-y, yet it was clearly lived in. When she looked back at the old man, she saw that he was staring straight at her. His eyes were the size of dinner plates.

"Y… You're… You're awake… I thought for sure you were going to die…" The old man was clearly shocked to see her conscious. Milly wondered why he had apparently stayed with her throughout the time she was out. After all, Milly clearly remembered getting caught trying to poison the master of the house. After a few seconds, Milly decided she didn't give a shit.

"You scared me badly. You had gotten way too much cyanide inside your bloodstream to be survivable, and yet here you are. Either this is the work of a god, a miracle, or you're just the luckiest person in the world."

Wait a minute… This place seemed death-y… Milly could feel… ghosts? There were so many ghosts nearby! And corpses!

"I have never seen a case like yours before, and I used to work as a royal doctor. Well, doctor's assistant. Cyanide poisonings were common in the palace. No one had ingested as much cyanide and lived to tell the tale, much less had it directly enter their bloodstream. And when black ooze started leaking out of your pores…"

Milly wasn't listening. She was in a cemetery! A fucking cemetery! THIS WAS A PLACE TO BURY PEOPLE!

"WHAT THE FUCK?!?! GET AWAY FROM ME!!!" Milly teleported to the other side of the room without even thinking. She took the old guy with her accidentally, as he was still touching her. He fell to the ground, almost taking Milly with him. Milly broke free from his hold by kicking him in the balls and immediately yanking her wrist away. 

Milly looked around for something heavy enough to hold him down. She found a large bookcase filled with heavy textbooks, and didn't hesitate to run up to it and touch it. Surprisingly, she did not need to make any hand gestures in order to teleport the bookcase on top of the old guy. It teleported almost on its own, the sheer power and amount of all the Force inside her saving her precious seconds needed to sign her spell.

Milly did not look to see her handiwork. She thought of how badly she wanted to be safe, how much she needed to be in a safe place, and she teleported… several feet in the air above a roof. Milly was too shocked to scream. Her legs crashed through the roof. The only reason she didn't fall completely through was that she reflexively shot her arms out to stop the fall after her legs had broken through. Milly attempted to lift herself up, arms heavily straining from the effort. She quickly realized she was still in the cemetery and then panic-teleported onto a patch of dirt she saw. Milly bolted, almost tripping on her own two feet, but she kept running.

\------

The thing about vampires is that all of their senses are exponentially greater than human senses. The sense of touch, for example, could tell a vampire much about something running around and making the ground vibrate. A vampire could tell the exact weight, gender, build, gait, and exact distance relative from themselves of someone just from feeling footsteps on a wood floor, while a human could only feel for the general distance and possibly weight of the same person. However, this gift has its downsides. The senses can easily be used against a vampire, via screeching, rapidly flashing lights, and pain. Pain is amplified for a vampire, just as the sense of touch is. While a human might be able to tolerate a normal stab wound, to a vampire with a low pain tolerance, it would be absolute torture. Therefore, when Regis was kicked hard in the genitals, he was understandably in agony. So much so that he didn't notice a giant bookcase falling on top of him until it nearly crushed him and pinned him down.

Regis gave out a pained groan and reached up, pushing the bookcase off him. Several books fell and landed on top of him, one even covering his face. He wriggled his way free, crawling out of the bookcase. Once free, he stood up and gently put it down where it couldn't damage any more books. He looked around for Milly, perking his ears, then he detected a draft that wasn't there before. It felt like it was coming from the staircase. Regis poofed over and saw a gaping hole in the roof that definitely wasn't there before.

Regis briefly considered letting the girl go in favor of attending to his Resonance before poofing onto the roof to investigate. It's dangerous to be in the woods at night, especially when you're alone and panicked. Monsters could easily kill a human in that state.

\------

Milly ducked low as she heard the telltale footsteps of a person walking past. It stopped for a few seconds, long enough for Milly to check if the coast is clear. As soon as she saw the old guy, she immediately got back down to the ground. She clasped her hand to her mouth on the off chance he could hear her breathing. The old man huffed, but refused to leave.

Milly risked peeking through the bush she was hiding behind. She observed that the old man's back was turned towards her. Milly carefully got on all fours and slowly fled, mimicing a wolf. The old guy did not turn around. Milly didn't bother thinking about why, she was just glad to get away from him.

\-------

Finding a single human being was far harder than Regis thought it would be. Either she was really good at evading him, or Regis was just a terrible tracker.

Regis sighed. He walked to a tree, almost tripping on something lumpy. He looked down and noticed something white on the ground. He bent down and inspected the bone hairclip. Regis remembered that the girl was wearing it. He bent down and tugged on it, finding that it was stuck. He frowned and fiddled with it until it opened, allowing him to take the clip. Regis stood up and sniffed it. He caught the scent of the girl. It was surprisingly strong here. Regis assumed she tripped and fell here. He walked away, sniffing around for her scent.

\--------

AAAAAAAAA FUUUUUUUUUUCK HE'S STANDING RIGHT ON TOP OF ME HE'S STANDING RIGHT ON TOP OF ME NO NO NO DON'T LOOK AT ME OH LEBIODA HE'S LOOKING AT ME FFFUUUUCK NO DON'T TAKE MY CLIP NO FUCK JUST GO AWAY I DON'T EVEN CARE ANYMORE JUST LEAVE PLEASE

\--------

Regis approached the old estate where the spotted wight had resided. The scent of the girl had led him here. He desperately hoped she was alright.

As if on cue, a scream resounded through the air. Regis cursed and sped to the source. A giant flying icicle flew towards him, and would have stabbed him in the face if he hadn't dodged in time. Instead, it harmlessly embedded itself in the wall, beginning to melt and disappear already. Regis looked at the icicle, then to the direction it came from. A small group of barghests, which Geralt must have missed during his trip here, were attacking the girl from earlier. She was holding them off, but she was tiring quickly and it showed.

\-------

Milly stumbled backwards, all grace leaving her as a barghest lunged at her. It didn't manage to quite reach her, but it was far too close for Milly's liking. Milly screamed. She kicked the barghest away, buying some time, but unfortunately the other two were not affected by her kick, for physics does not work like that. Milly recalled a spell she had seen earlier in one of her textbooks: a weaponized shard of ice that could freeze whoever it pierced. 

Milly stepped back, putting additional distance between her and certain death. She took as deep a breath as she could and drew her remaining magic energy into her hands. She signed the word for "ice," then she brought her fingers together before pulling them apart, creating a fat and flat lump of ice. It wasn't exactly what she was going for, but Milly was glad she was able to at least cast a combat spell at all. Milly drew her right hand away and launched the ice at a barghest that had suddenly jumped at her. In her panic, Milly missed badly. 

The barghest tackled her to the ground with its weight, untouched by her spell. The other two barghests surrounded her while Milly fought off the snapping jaws aiming for her throat. Soon, Milly had to fight off three murderous dogs as they bit at her vitals with their razor-sharp teeth. Just when Milly was about to accept her fate, an unknown force intervened.

It threw the barghest on top of her off into the distance where Milly could no longer see it. It then moved so fast Milly didn't register that it had slaughtered the two other barghests until Milly was coated in their dust. Some fell into her eyes, making her cry out in pain and turn over until she was looking at the ground.

"Don't worry, child. You're safe now." A calm, soothing voice broke through the fresh silence.

\-----

Milly awoke to the inside of the crypt once again. But she couldn't remember her chase, the fight against the barghests, her savior, or even that the place she was in had corpses littered nearby.

An old man turned away from placing books on his bookshelf. He was wearing a dark coat, and he had gray hair. He was covered in a thin layer of dirt and dust, which he showed signs of trying unsuccessfully wipe it off. Milly made eye contact with the man, and she thought he was ugly as fuck.

"Hello, I see you're conscious again. Don't drop another bookshelf on me, please. I mean you no harm." The man placed the last of his books back. "My name is Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy."


	15. Chapter 15

"Hello, I see you're conscious again. Don't drop another bookshelf on me, please. I mean you no harm." The man placed the last of his books back. "My name is Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy."

"What?"

The guy with the long-winded, almost gibberish name sighed and shook his head. "You may call me Regis. Everyone does. But what is your name?"

"Milly." Milly automatically responded, proceeded by her making a face.

"Well, Milly," Regis pulled up a chair and sat down next to Milly. "How do you feel?"

"Good."

"I certainly hope so, after your ordeal." Regis patted Milly's arm, making her flinch and back away. "I apologize for that. Anyway, you might as well drop your glamour. I can see through it easily."

"You… you can?" Milly's heart rate picked up, and she had to consciously control her breathing.

"Yes. I won't tell anyone about your true identity, though, if that's what you're worried about. I just want you to answer a few questions."

"Um," Milly released her glamour spell with a few simple gestures. "Okay."

"Good. First of all, are you in any pain?"

"No."

"May I study the black goo you were emitting?"

"WHAT?!"

"You produced black gunk earlier, while you were unconscious from cyanide poisoning." Regis explained. "Do you remember being poisoned?"

"…No." Milly lied.

"Oh, I see." Regis didn't believe her for one second. "Anyway, may I study a sample of the gunk? And one of your blood, while I'm at it?"

"No, and no."

"Fair enough. How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

Regis carefully pondered the wording of his next question. "Tell me, why… Do you… remember the events leading up to this? What you were doing when you got poisoned?"

Milly did remember. She remembered that she attempted to kill Geralt, and how she was put up to it. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Regis pursed his lips and nodded. "I… guess that is fair. You nearly died, after all." Regis pointed to a steaming kettle near Milly, which she had missed in her sweep of the room. "Tea?"

"…Sure."

"It's an herbal brew, by the way." Regis poured tea from the kettle into two cups. "Good for your skin."

"Okay."

Regis started to feel a bit awkward. He handed Milly a cup and drank from his own. "So, why exactly did you panic earlier?"

"Dunno." Milly unhooked her sippy cup from her belt.

"Irrational hysteria, common occurence among… those who went through a near-death experience and woke up in an unfamiliar area." Regis sipped his tea. "If you're still a bit scared, don't worry. I mean you no harm. If I did, I'd have done it while you slept."

"Mm." Milly finished pouring tea into her sippy cup and closed the lid. She drank from it, tasting mint, oranges, and cinnamon in the brew. "Where am I?"

"We are in Mere-Lachaiselongue cemetery, specifically in its mausoleum where I have set up a living space for myself." Regis informed. He pondered his next question. "You're rather young for a would-be assassin, why did you wish to start?"

"Start what?" Milly drank up the tea, mindful of how hot it was.

"Start your career."

Milly had no clue what he was getting at.

"I mean your career as an assassin." Regis elaborated.

"Oh! I, um, I had to." Milly muttered out the last part.

""Had to?" What do you mean?" Regis leaned forward, holding his tea close to his chest.

"Eh." Milly grunted, attempting to get Regis to dismiss the question.

"You don't just acquire extremely rare and deadly poison and use it to kill someone just because." Regis took a deep breath, realizing his anger was bleeding into his words. He pinched the bridge of his nose and continued. "As I said before, I will not turn you in, and neither will Geralt. So-"

"Who's Geralt?" Milly slowly twirled her cup by moving only her wrist. If Regis had a hard time picking up on facial expressions, he would have missed the subtle confusion etched in Milly's face.

"The man you tried to kill. Or, I assume you were intending to kill him. He's a witcher with silky white hair, hypnotic cat eyes, and his muscles…" Regis quickly fell into a fantasy involving himself and said witcher. He shook his head to disperse it, then he cleared his throat. Now was not the time for such fantasies.

"Umm… okay." Milly pursed her lips.

"So, as I was saying," Regis crossed his legs. "No one will turn you in. You are safe with me. You don't have to tell me everything, I just want to know why."

Milly looked at his legs, then at him. "Uh, I can tell you're hiding a boner right now, so…"

Regis blushed to the tips of his ears. "Shit… I'm so sorry… Do you mind if I go outside for a minute?"

"Nope."

Regis ran away as fast as he could without alerting Milly to his vampiric nature.

\-----

Geralt sulked as his horse carried him onward. He found no leads whatsoever relating to the thinly-veiled assassination attempt, not even a whiff of cyanide. The hitman out to kill him was very clearly skilled in his work, even managing to throw off a witcher. Geralt had given up at some point and taken a trip to Beauclair. Absolutely no armories had been open, leaving Geralt with his shitty, barely-there armor. And on top of that, more archespores had ambushed him on the way here, dissolving his chest armor further and leaving him with barely any protection.

Roach whinied and halted. Geralt could feel her fear levels shoot up. Geralt cast axii on her and dismounted. Sniffing the air, he discovered the scent of herbs in the air, but also… something musky? Whatever it was, it was faint and held no potency. Geralt couldn't help but breathe deep. He attempted to lead Roach, but she refused to move an inch towards the cemetery. Geralt tied her to a small tree and went forward on his own.

A moan resounded through the air, accompanied by the sound of a quick heartrate and heavy breathing. Wait a minute… that sounded like Regis! Was he in danger?! Geralt unsheathed his steel sword and ran to the source of the noise.

"Regis! Regis, are… you… alright?" Geralt stopped a few feet behind Regis. "Uhh, nice, nice weather, isn't it?"

"Yes… yes it is." The sky was filled with dark clouds, and the air felt heavy.

"Do you… want me to come back?"

"No, just… get in the mausoleum. I… I was just finishing up anyway." Regis panted. He blushed heavily once he saw Geralt. "I…I shall join you in a minute."

Geralt turned around and left Regis to his own devices. He could hear him frantically wiping himself down. If he had turned to look, he would have found that Regis' gaze lingered on him. However, Geralt did not turn around. He kept walking on into the mausoleum, down the stairs.

Geralt went into the room where the Resonance brew resided, indicated by the boiling and the pungent scent. Soon, Regis appeared beside him, as though Geralt hadn't just caught him masturbating.

"Did you remember to collect the saliva?" Regis asked. Geralt wordlessly handed him the vial of wight brew he had acquired. Regis had to turn to face Geralt in order to grab it, and as he did he took in Geralt's appearance. Geralt's muscles rippled with each move he made, accentuated by the thin sheen of sweat and barely covered by the tattered armor, leaving very little to the imagination. Regis tore his gaze away and went to the cauldron, not daring to turn around. "I am glad you didn't need to fight the wi- Marlene. I worried about you. I wasn't even certain letting you leave without some form of assistance, but you seem to have come out of it unscathed."

"Wait, how'd you know I never fought it?"

"A raven told me." Regis replied simply, never tearing his gaze off the sickly-yellow Resonance.

"Send your spies after me?" Geralt got a little defensive at that.

"My watchers. Were something to go wrong, I could then arrive quickly to help." Regis explained as he measured out the wight brew. Not once did he allow his side or his front to face Geralt, even as he was getting measuring tools from the shelf behind him.

"Managed fine alone, but… thanks for the thought. " Geralt was touched by his friend's concern. "Gonna need much longer to finish brewing Resonance? Mentioned a last ingredient, too - what about that"

It was a good thing the Resonance brew was smelly. "That, I fear, might prove troublesome. You see, to use thw concoction to summon the memories of one, the solution must contain the blood of another specimen of the same species."

"Shouldn't be a problem. I happen to know a higher vampire who should be willing to help." Geralt approached Regis and just slighly whispered into his ear, "Right, Regis?"

Regis gasped, for multiple reasons. This close proximity was not helping him! He wanted to just turn around and carry Geralt to his bed. Regis shook his head and took a deep breath, accidentally inhaling Geralt's scent.

"Regis?"

"I- uh- sorry, I spaced out for a minute there. What were you saying?" Great job, Regis. Great job.

"Shouldn't your blood suffice?" Geralt hugged Regis from behind and subtly sniffed his neck.

"Ah, Geralt, could you, uh, let go of me? And give me some distance?" Regis fought with himself to not get carried away. Geralt was straight, after all. Doing something even vaguely romantic with him would likely end their friendship. "Not that I don't like the attention, I do, but I need to avoid being touched right now." With some hesitance, Geralt backed off. Immediately, Regis missed the contact. "About my blood, it's not that simple. While you were away, I tried my damndest to identify a replacement, but alas, none such exists."

"Not sure I understand what the problem is. Can't we just draw some of your blood?" Geralt sat down on a nearby desk.

"The blood must be in an agitated state." Regis adjusted his pants. "As I'm certain you know, higher vampires can change their corporeal shell. As our flesh changes, so does our blood's chemical composition. Dettlaff reached this state via having a panic attack triggered. To make a long story shoet, I shall need to induce in myself a state of strong psychokinetic… arousal. In brief, madness, rabidity. And that stands to be very, very dangerous."

"Dangerous? Why? I mean, you'll still be you, right?"

"True. But I shall be highly agitated, in a state of fury. You know better than I that fury cannot be controlled. If you've ever seen an enraged vampire, you know very well that all who find themselves nearby will be in grave danger."

"How will we handle that? I'd rather not have you lunging at me, claws extended."

"That makes two of us. But worry not. I've thought it through very thoroughly. Details to follow, soon." At Geralt's nod, Regis continued. "We shall visit Tesham Mutna, an ancient vampire estate. There we will find cages suspended in the air. I will enter one, be confined. You will lure beasts there. Beasts you will then kill. The bloodletting should prove profuse. Abundant enough so that the blood's scent will drive me mad, wild."

"Tesham Mutna - what's it like?"

Regis hesitated for a split second. "It is a place of torment, a torture chamber. Long ago, shortly after we'd arrived in this world, one among us named Khagmar developed such a taste and lust for human blood that in one night he could imbibe an entire village. This brought trouble on the entire species. Common folk wearied quickly of living in constant fear. They began to hunt us, seeking the aid of mages and witchers in tracking us down."

"So what?" Geralt shrugged. "Not like they could ever hope to kill you."

"But they were bothersome." Regis emphasized, still facing the cauldron. "Forgive the comparison, but when did you last enjoy mosquitoes buzzing around your head? In any case, the other vampires decided something had to be done. Khagmar had to be caught and punished. A torture chamber was thus outfitted in the dungeons of Tesham Mutna. Inside it, a cage made entirely of a special alloy of silver, dalvinite, and meteorite steel. Khagmar was captured and locked in the cage. Sat there for over two centuries, driven to fury time after time, never able to escape. Thus I know the cage will withstand the fury to which we shall drive my humble being." Regis adjusted his clothes one last time and went over to his desk, where he drank from a vial.

"What was that?" Geralt grew concerned as he smelled the unmistakable scent of blood.

"Blood." Regis confirmed for him. "Drawn from multiple ravens. They are fine, just experiencing blood loss. I've also taken some sangurium, a solution that sharpens one's sense of smell. One drop of blood shall smell like a gallon to me, now." Regis did not bring up how he could smell Geralt's pheromones as well.

"You crazy?! You're a recovering addict!"

Regis had to lean on his desk. "Your outrage warms my heart, Geralt, but you must remain calm." At that moment, Regis realized that Geralt's armor was ruined. He blushed. "In hindsight, I should have probably let you obtain new armor. I apologize, deeply," Regis bent over and winced. "But the die is cast. High time we set off for Tesham Mutna. My head's… spinning, and you're starting to smell quite tasty." Regis got up and walked past.

"And you're starting to scare me." Geralt followed behind him, ready to defend him from any monsters if need be. Neither of them noticed the sleeping human hiding in the shadows.


	16. Chapter 16

Fists clenched up as Regis held himself back. Geralt's scent filled his nose, forcing him to breathe through his mouth. Geralt stepped into view, visibly concerned about Regis. Oh, how Regis wanted to make love with him. He wanted to touch him and tug his hair back and leave love bites all over his neck as he-

"Regis? You need a minute?" Geralt's voice broke Regis out of his spell.

"…No." Stuck in the haze of lust combined with near-sensory overload, Regis just wanted to sit down and block out all his senses as he fantasized. But there was no time to do so. "Come on, Geralt. We're almost there."

As a safety precaution, Regis walked in front of Geralt where he had previously walked beside him. It would be harder to focus on his scent, but t this point it may not even do any good. Oh well. Out of sight, out of mind.

\-----

"We have arrived." Regis silently celebrated as he stepped onto the castle grounds. "The sacrificial chamber of torture and torment lies underground."

"Sure you know what you're doing?" Geralt showed his concern throughout his entire being.

"I can only hope I do." Regis groaned as an intense wave of primal instinct tore through him, making him grip his purse strap harder. He rushed through his next words. "Please, let's go? The longer we delay, the less control I shall have over my facilities." He ended his statement with a sincere look. "I'd really prefer not to hurt you."

Geralt didn't like how he was hurting himself, but at this point it was too late. "You lead."

Regis stared at the dead man just a few feet away. The scent of blood almost overwhelmed him as Geralt examined the body. His eyes brimmed with tears as he held his breath.

"Scurvers." Geralt concluded about the body. "Must be getting close to their feeding ground."

"Correct." For a minute Regis lost his breath, a very bad sign as he didn't even need to breathe. "I told you there'd be danger." He turned around and walked away before he could lose control of himself. Geralt followed closely behind. "Beyond this wall lies…"

"An ancient vampire dungeon." Geralt finished for him. "Seen a lot of things in my time. Nothing quite like this, though."

"My, I feel honored. A man with such a wealth of experience, yet I'm about to show him something new. Now to open it." Regis swiped his hand near the wall. Immediately, black fog, followed by a glowing red glyph formed. Then, the door slid downwards, grinding stone against stone with a low screech.

"How the hell…?"

"It's an ancient form of protection against unwanted guests. The mechanism which releases the latch reacts only to a higher vampire's blood." Regis explained to Geralt as they walked down the stairs.

"Tricky mechanism, a vampire hideout - fortified, secured. Must've been important to your species once, Toussaint." Geralt thought aloud as they stepped into a room full of cobwebs, cages, and miscellaneous furniture.

"It shall always be so. During the Conjunction, the gate from our world into this one opened upon this land and no other. This was the first place we saw."

"Mm." Geralt grunted. He spotted a chest next to the opposite door. It looked important. "Hm, what've we got here?" Upon closer examination, he found a note on top of it. He speedread through it, noting that it was a poem of some kind, then handed it to Regis. He opened the chest, bending over and accidentally flustering Regis. He found black armor, pants, and a steel sword inside. "Ooh, lucky me." Geralt happily grabbed his loot.

"That's, uh… I'll just, turn around." Regis was about to explain the history behind that armor, but then Geralt had ripped off what little chest armor he had on and caused Regis to feel a little too hot and heavy. Regis turned around as he covered his face with his hands. He cursed himself for getting aroused as he heard the distinct sound of Geralt taking off his pants. Regis controlled his breathing, counting his inhales and exhales until he stopped shaking.

"You can look, now." Geralt informed Regis. Regis turned around and found that Geralt was decently dressed, albeit in attire with a very shady past.

"Well, at least you have protection. Come on, it's not far now." Regis heard Geralt following closely behind as he walked down the creaky wooden stairs.

"This place - there's evil here. Death hangs in the air." Even Geralt felt a perpetual sense of dread.

"Yes. A great many beings have breathed their last here." They reached the end of the stairs. Next to the doorway, Geralt spotted carved emblems.

"Glyphs're carved into the rock. Coated with blood, used to be. They mean something?"

"They're emblems, symbols of hmm… what you would call tribes, dispersed throughout the world after the conjunction. My ancestors placed them here to remind us where we ll came from."

"What's this symbol mean?"

"It's the symbol of the Tdet. Those who went east, beyond the Blue Mountains."

"And this one? Which tribe's this?"

"Gharasham. My tribe, amd Dettlaff's." Regis smiled at the memories of his tribe. "We both remained in this part of the world." Regis spotted a chest resembling the one before. He bent over and opened it, intentionally making himself as sexually appealing as possible before taking out a black mask and some boots. "Geralt, I don't know if you need-"

Geralt took the boots and replaced his old, worn, stinking boots with surprisingly fresh ones. He then put the mask on. Regis looked at him funny for that. "What? I like masks."

"You're… oh, nevermind." Regis led Geralt out the room.

Geralt saw the rows of cells lining the walls next. "Cells? Who for?"

"Ahh, disgraceful, excrutiatingly so, this particular page from our history… I'd rather not summon the demons of the past, if it's alright with you." Regis hung his head in shame as he continued onwards. Geralt paused at the end to put on some black gloves he found in a box at the end and then joined Regis in a spacious, circular room with multiple cages chained to the ceiling.

'Charming place. But… what're all those cages for?" Geralt walked in front of the center cage. "Mentioned one vampire being kept here.

"Yes, well… you see, humanitarians is something my ancestors were not. They concluded Khagmar would best be punished if he were tormented with the scent of blood he could not taste. Thus, they also kept humans here, humans whose blood they slowly let. Khagmar ranted and raged in pain as those… those humans slowly bled to death." Regis lowered his head as his lip quivered and tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

Geralt looked at him for a second, then he stepped forward and took Regis into his arms. Regis stiffened, then relaxed and melted into Geralt's hold. For a few seconds, they hugged, then Regis stepped away.

"Thank you… but we need to continue. I don't know how long I can restrain myself." Regis stepped into the cage and slid his arms through the respective holes. "Lock me up, now."

"You sure abou-"

"Yes! I will be fine! Now hurry!"

Geralt, after some hesitation, did as he was told. Once all the locks were in place, he stepped away. "What do I do now?"

"Take the bait I gave you earlier and place it at the tunnel entrances, where it will spread most effectively." Regis pointed behind Geralt.

"When I think of how these tunnels got here… sends shivers." Geralt placed bait as he spoke.

"It was the natural order of things - the place reeked of death and attracted necrophages." Regis attempted to offer comfort. He watched carefully as Geralt bent over to place the rest of the bait, Regis himself drooling at the view.

"Bait's set. What now?" Geralt's voice broke Regis out of his fantasies.

Regis was very glad he thought to adjust his clothes before getting into the cage.

"We wait. It shouldn't take long before we have some visitors."

"Will you be in pain?" Geralt went before the cage. Regis couldn't decipher his expression due to the mask.

"Yes, excrutiating pain. My sole thought shall be to stop that pain." Regis could see that Geralt grew worried for him, even behind the mask. "I know what you're thinking, Geralt. This is for the best."

"Wish I could believe that…" Geralt tentatively took ahold of Regis' hand and interlaced his fingers with Regis'. Regis smiled and squeezed back.

"Haha, I just thought of something…"

"What?"

"Your armor, it looks like…" Regis' ears perked at the sound of scuttling. "They're here. The lever! Over there!"

Geralt let go of Regis' hand and ran over to the lever. He pulled it, and Regis' cage started lifting up into the air. As a necrophage popped its ugly head out of the nearest tunnel, Geralt thought of something important, something he should have brought up earlier.

"Maybe we need a safe word? You know, something you'll say when you can't take it anymore."

\-----

If Regis' hands were free, he would have facepalmed. At the same time, intrusive thoughts of Geralt fucking him hard while in a predicament similar to his current one seeped into his mind. "And what would you do once I uttered it?"

"Don't know." Geralt dodged a necrophage while drawing his silver sword. "Uh, calm you down… somehow…"

"Please, Geralt. You wouldn't-" With a swift strike, Geralt forced a scurver to choke and explode, suffocating Regis with the scent of blood and viscera. "Aaaaarrrggh!"

Regis accidentally breathed deep, inhaling the stench even further. His eyes watered as he rested his head against the cage. He shut his eyes, and listened to the sound of Geralt killing monsters off one by one. Regis began outright crying and rocking the cage back and forth.

More and more blood was let. Regis' mouth watered, and he craved the sweet, velvetty taste. Geralt cried out, quickly followed by Regis registering the taste of his delicious blood. Oh, it's been too long, he needed a drink. Geralt looked so appetizing, all dressed up in what might as well have been paper clothes to a vampire's claws. If only Regis could break free, then he would have a nice meal. He would pin Geralt down and make him whimper as he drained him dry…

NO! THAT IS GERALT! DO NOT HURT HIM DO NOT DO NOT DO NOT! HE IS YOUR LOVE! YOUR LOVE YOUR LOVE YOUR LOVE!

"GeeeeeraaaAAAAAAAAALLLTT!" Regis could barely hear himself scream over his own internal conflict. He beat his head against whatever the fuck was in frpnt of him as hard as he could in the blind hope that it would pacify his raging bloodlust. 

"I'm fine!" Geralt shouted over the cacophony of the fight. Regis barely even processed that Geralt spoke. "Regis, I'm fine!"

"Geralt Geralt Geralt Geralt Geraaaaaalt!" Regis was sobbing at this point. It was a wonder he was coherent. "Geralt, I love you, I can't… Please…"

"Hold on, I'll let you out!" Geralt performed a pirouette, ending the lives of the last three necrophages. He killed a fleder with a swift, yet powerful swing and used his momentum to behead a scurver before it could explode. He watched as the ekimmara fled from the scene before he tuned his senses. All was quiet. Nothing was coming for him, or for Regis.

Geralt wiped his sword off with a rag before sheathing it. He ran over to the lever and flipped it, sending the cage down along with its sobbing captive. Geralt remembered in the back of his mind that they needed Regis' blood, so he took a knife and vial and with some hesitation cut Regis' hand. Regis froze for a split second before wailing and collapsing as much as the cage would allow.

"Oh, Geralt… What… What have I done… I'm so sorry…" Fat tears fell from Regis' eyes as his will left him, turning him into a bawling, shivering, wretched mess. He only realized his hands were free when he felt a warm substance spread across his face. He removed his shaky hands from his face and found them to be covered in blood. Regis stared at them for a few seconds before he tilted his head back and let out an inhuman screech. "GERAAAAAALT!"

"Regis!" Geralt aggressively swatted the cage. "Regis! Look at me! I'm here! I'm alive!"

"Geraaaaaalt…" Regis choked out through his sobs. "I love you, I love you, I love you…"

"Regis, open your eyes!" Geralt reached through the cage and took Regis' hands in his. "Look."

Regis tentatively dared to open his eyes. Before him was the man he has loved for years, unmasked and uninjured. "You're… alive? I thought… I thought I had…"

"You were in here the entire time. I was never in any danger from you." Geralt squeezed Regis' hands and smiled. Regis couldn't help but smile back. "Gonna get you out of here."

"No… What if I-"

"Hush. I know you won't kill me. I trust you. And if you hurt me," Geralt shrugged. "Won't hold it against you." He let go of Regis' hands with sone hesitation and circled around the cage. He unlocked and opened it, taking Regis' support away. Regis fell into his waiting arms. "Tell me how to finish the concoction." Geralt began as he slid an arm under Regis' knees and hefted him up princess-style. "You can't finish it in this state."

Regis reached up and pressed a light kiss to Geralt's jawline before giving him the instructions as best he could.


	17. Chapter 17

Geralt nudged the door open with his hip and stepped inside, with Regis in his arms like a bride being carried through the threshold of their home. Regis sniffled and wiped his nose as Geralt went down the stairs. Once at the bottom, Regis instructed Geralt to leave him in the lower levels, saying that the stench of Resonance would be too strong for him. Geralt obeyed, setting Regis down on a relatively un-rocky spot against the wall. Regis watched as the man of his affections left, then he turned his attention to the now-conscious girl.

"You're still here…"

"Just woke up." Milly yawned and stretched. "Who was that guy? And was he…?"

"He's…" Regis desperately wanted to say Geralt was the love of his life, but he surely didn't return Regis' feelings. He couldn't outright say his name, either. Milly might panic again. "Someone dear to me." Regis settled. "And yes. Yes he was." Regis assumed the end of Milly's question.

"Oh… So you two…" Milly cleared her throat. "Sorry, none of my business. You seem pretty drained, you ok?"

"Relatively speaking, yes."

"Relatively?"

"I just went through a highly strenuous task. Subjected myself to torture."

"Oh shit! Don't you need aftercare?!"

Regis chuckled without humor. "There are more important things that need to be done. I need to find a dear friend of mine, so that hopefully I can help him."

Milly ever-so-slightly furrowed her eyebrows. "Shouldn't you have… focused on that, then?"

"Believe me, we were." Regis took on a sincere look, while Milly only grew more confused and mortified. "Long story short, we needed to brew a decoction, which… my… friend is currently doing. We had to go out and get an ingredient in order to brew it. We obtained it and came back."

"But why did you have super crazy hot BDSM sex? There's really nothing produced by it, except for-" Milly "oh"-ed in realization.

"Wha-?! We didn't have sex!" Regis raised his voice in embarassment and indignation. He could feel heat travelling to his face. "It was nothing like that!"

"Regis? You okay?" Geralt peeked out over the railing.

"Yes, I'm fine! I was just…" When Regis looked back to Milly, he found empty air where she used to reside. "What the…?"

"You want me to come down there?"

"No, no need." Regis dismissed.

"Alright, but if you need me…" Geralt disappeared further into the room.

Milly reappeared by Regis' side, as if by magic. "Oh shit is that Geralt?"

"Wah!" Regis jumped a little. "You gave me a fright! And yes, he is indeed Geralt."

"…I thought he was just some random prostitute at first."

"He is not a prostitute! Although there is nothing wrong with being one, he is not some random person off the street! He is extraordinary, kind, loyal, intelligent, brave, and overall one-of-a-kind! To say he is just some random person would be a great injustice!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" Milly threw her hands up in surrender. "I just thought that with the stripper clothes and then the BDSM gear he's wearing-"

"WHAT?!?!"

"Regis?" Geralt called out from the cauldron. "Want me to come down there?"

Regis sighed. "Yes."

Geralt set the ladle aside and briskly walked downstairs. He was greeted by the look of an exasperated, confused Regis. He drew closer to him, sitting down next to him.

"What the-? I stopped looking for a second, where the fuck did…" Regis huffed and shook his head.

"What happened?" Geralt pulled Regis closer, embracing him in a hug.

"There was a girl here…" Despite himself, Regis couldn't help but nuzzle into the crook of Geralt's neck. Thankfully, Geralt had shed his new armor in favor of a simple, clean shirt.

"A girl?"

"Yes. Milly, her name was. She was just here a minute ago. I took my eyes off her for literally one second and she disappeared."

"Hm." That convinced Geralt Regis was hallucinating. He hugged Regis tighter and ran a hand through his hair, lips ghosting his forehead. Something in him urged him to close the distance, even lower his head to Regis' lips, but he held himself back. "Still hurting?"

"…Yes." Regis climbed into Geralt's lap of his own accord. Thanks to Regis' fever and Geralt's naturally high body temperature, they both felt warm enough to almost fall alseep. Regis straddled him, letting his arms rest at Geralt's shoulders. Being just inches away from kissing his love was so agonizingly tempting that Regis had to duck his head into Geralt's sweet-smelling neck. "I'm… I'm glad you care so deeply…"

"Mean the world to me, Regis. Never wanna see you get hurt ever again. Hell, I would do almost anything for you." His heart beat harder as the confession spilled from Geralt's lips.

"Really, Geralt? I… mean that much to you?" Regis lifted his head up, looking Geralt in the eye. He smiled, wider and wider, until he physically could not smile any more. Geralt unconsciously matched Regis in that regard, becoming filled with a light and pleasantly dizzy feeling. "Thank you… You have no idea how much that means to me…"

Even in such shitty lighting, Regis looked so adorable. His smile, his hair, everything about him drew Geralt to him. They've known each other for years, and yet Geralt has never felt quite like this towards him. He caressed Regis' cheek, feeling the surprisingly soft hair along his jaw, when the realization hit him like an enraged rock troll.

He is in love with Regis.

All these years, there's been something between them that refused to die, even after their respective deaths. This little spark had been there almost since the beginning, and only grew as they spent years travelling together side-by-side. There had been little touches, innocent glances between them that Geralt should have known were there, but he was too stupid to notice. Maybe it was the djinn's magic, or his love for Yennefer binding them as soulmates, but either way, it had taken him this long to finally realize.

He is in love with his best friend.

Gerslt suddenly found it hard to breathe as Regis sighed happily and leaned into his touch. His hand tingled, feeling oddly light and heavy at the same time. The tingling travelled through Geralt's body, settling in his chest and face. Images of the two of them kissing, holding hands, and cuddling surfaced, and for once Geralt welcomed these thoughts.

"I travelled all over the world to find you…" Regis gently oulled Geralt back into reality. "No matter what I did, you always seemed to be in a different country altogether. But in spite of all of that, I never once thought to give up."

"Had I known you were alive, I would have tried to find you, too." Geralt ran his fingers through Regis' soft, fluffy hair. "You mean everything to me…"

Regis giggled and nuzzled Geralt's neck. "I feel the same way about you!"

They sat in a comfortable silence, cuddling each other until their hearts felt like they were going to burst from sheer love. Geralt's hands found their way to Regis' arms, tempted to travel farther and farther until they reached Regis' hands. Geralt took a deep whiff of Regis' hair, smelling the strong scent of herbs and something else, something that smelled pure and sweet. It made Geralt's head pleasantly spin.

He is in love with the man he has known for years.

Regis pulled back and cupped Geralt's face with his hands. They stared at each other's lips for several painfully long seconds, both dreaming of leaning forward and kissing until they were breathless and smiling like idiots.

"Regis?"

"Hm?"

"I-"

A loud crash echoed through the mausoleum, startling them and unseating Regis. Regis stood up and dusted himself off as though nothing happened. Geralt followed suit, refusing to look at Regis' outstretched hand. What was he thinking, trying to out himself to Regis?! Regis was clearly straight, he just needed to look at how satisfied he kept succubi! Besides, he was likely homophobic to some extent. Geralt knew people. People were deep-set in their ways, and the older they are, the more likely they are to wish death upon anyone not straight and/or cisgender.

He told himself that, even as he pushed down the lump in his throat.


	18. Chapter 18

Milly had a serious "oh shit" moment when several rocks toppled over, creating a large crashing sound that echoed throughout the cavern and the mausoleum. Before she had the chance to hide, the one guy with a reason to kill her strolled in.

"…You Milly?" 

OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT

"Guess that answers that question. What're you doing here?"

"Uh… Um…" FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

Geralt sighed. "Come on, let's get you out of here. Kikimores were here earlier, killed them all, but I don't feel safe letting you stay here." Geralt guided Milly out of the cavern system and back into the actual building. He paid Milly's rapidly-beating heart no mind. If Regis seemed to approve of her, then she was probably a good kid. "So… you've been talking with Regis?"

Said old guy came into view. "Yes." Milly knew she could have elaborated, or at least go beyond her characteristic mono-syllable responses, but she couldn't be bothered to.

"See you're talkative."

"She was the same with me." Regis spoke up. "It seems she is most talkative when referring to… Nevermind. I shouldn't embarrass you like that."

"I dunno, I think randomly popping a boner when you describe your crush is more embarrassing."

Geralt was silent for half a second, then he burst out laughing, bending over and clutching his sides. "I like her!"

Regis said nothing. He curled in on himself and hugged his knees. Milly didn't notice how his eyes watered and his lip quivered, but Geralt did. Geralt immediately stopped laughing and ran up to Regis' side.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry. Please, don't cry." Geralt held Regis' hands, but didn't try to move them. If Regis felt ready to, he would uncurl on his own. "Milly's sorry, too. Right?"

Milly took one look at the death glare Geralt was sending her way and decided that being contrary was not in her best interest. "Right."

"See?" Geralt pointed out to Regis, but Regis didn't seem to respond. "Do you want me to hug you again?"

"No." Regis' voice cracked. "I just… I just want to be left alone."

Geralt nodded and stood up. "Milly, come with me."

"Geralt, she is a child. Be patient with her."

"Fine, I won't chew her out, if that's what you want." Geralt sighed. "But she's still going to help me with this concoction." With a gesture, Geralt got Milly to follow him upstairs.

Milly felt awful. She glanced back at Regis, just now seeing how he was hurt by her careless comment. She made someone cry. That was the first time she had done that, and now she wishes she hadn't. It felt absolutely horrible to be the cause of someone's pain. She simply didn't understand why some people take pleasure in it, like teachers and parents and rich people.

"Milly." Geralt's voice snapped her out of her regrets. "Stir the brew over there." He pointed to the large cauldron. Milly obeyed, lifting up the ladle and scrunching her nose.

\-----

"Any better?"

At some point, Regis had found the strength in him to tolerate the smelly brew and let Geralt carry him up. A little while later, the brew reached the stage where even the tiniest mistake could cost the entire batch, so Geralt had dismissed Milly to downstairs with a bedroll in tow. It was still too dangerous for an unarmed human to wander around in the dark.

"Far from ideal and some time must pass before I fully recover, but yes, a bit better. Thank you." Regis scoot a little closer to where Geralt was sitting. "Yoy lok troubled. Something on your mind?"

"Never expected it to be like that. You didn't tell me." They both knew what Geralt was talking about.

"We need not discuss it."

"But we do. Cause if I hadn't stopped the torture early-"

"You WHAT?!"

"You were in so much pain! You were saying my name, over and over! I couldn't let you suffer!"

"Geralt…" Regis took a deep breath. "I knew what I was getting myself into. I was prepared to go through whatever it takes to find Dettlaff. I am hardier than my appearance suggests."

"I know, I know, but…" Geralt looked down, then back at Regis. "We should have found another way."

"I did not wish you to use any other way. Did that occur to you?"

"No, cause I thought no being would ever willingly subject themself to that kind of pain." Underlying Geralt's surface-level sass was deep concern for Regis

"I told you, the pain is my way of repaying my debt - the enormous debt I owe Dettlaff. If I had to do it again…" Regis looked Geralt in the eye. "I would, in a heartbeat."

Geralt sighed and shook his head. Regis always had an overdeveloped sense of empathy. "Resonance, it's ready."

"Are you certain you followed the formula?" Regis stood up at the same time as Geralt. "The proportions were exact, the brewing time precise? This is important, Geralt. The slightest deviation could cost even a witcher dearly."

"Relax. Got some experience brewing potions."

"Very well… in that case, let's begin."

"One question, though…" Geralt stomped down on his hesitance. "Back in Tesham Mutna, you said you loved me… Did you… mean it?"

Regis gasped. Surely, Geralt was asking because he wanted to know if he should stay away from him, maybe even try to kill him in his delicate state. Regis couldn't risk losing Geralt's friendship. It was better than nothing. "Uh, no, no I don't even remember saying it."

"Oh…" Geralt looked away. Was he… hurt? No, it must be Regis' imagination. "Just curious."

Geralt collected a vial of Resonance. He sat down, and knocked it back. He winced and groaned as the potion did its work. The veins on his face darkened and grew prominent on his pale skin as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.


	19. Chapter 19

"Geralt?!" Regis cried out as Geralt fell back, twitching and writhing on the ground. "Oh no, it was not supposed to get this bad this early!"

"What happened?" Mily came running up the stairs.

"Fuck, he's having a seizure!" Regis panicked as he checked Geralt's vitals. "Don't worry Geralt, you're going to be okay!"

"Oh, well if it's just a seizure, he should be okay. Just give him a few minutes and he'll be back on his feet."

"No! He drank a concoction that's deadly if brewed incorrectly! Seizures should not be occuring this early on! Fuck, he…" Regis sniffled. "He may die because of me… I'm sorry, Geralt!"

"Hey." Milly crouched down next to Regis and grabbed his chin. She forced him to look at her. "He's not dead yet. Save your tears and help him. Right now we have to put something soft under his head in case he thrashes it around."

Regis wordlessly took off his outer coat and bundled it up, placing it under Geralt's head. He kissed Geralt on the forehead, whispering words Milly's human ears couldn't catch. He then massaged a few seemingly-random places on Geralt's skull, smiling when he finished. "My initial panic was misplaced. He will be fine, for now."

"Oh, good." Milly pat Regis on the back. "What exactly did he drink?"

"The decoction I mentioned earlier. Even one mistake in brewing it could kill a witcher."

"I can see why you panicked." Milly glanced over to Geralt.

"You're awfully calm for the situation, Milly."

"Yeah. So?"

"Forgive me, I did not mean to accuse you. I was simply remarking on how you were able to keep your composure, even when I couldn't. Quite a contrast to earlier."

Milly drew a blank. "Mm."

"I suppose waking up in an unfamiliar place would make one panic. Goodness knows how much you did, teleporting and dropping bookshelves… I forgive you for that, just so you know."

"Mm."

"Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

"Nope." Milly popped the p.

"Well, when you woke up the first time around, it only took a few seconds for the panic to set in. You teleported around, and then… tried to drop a bookshelf on me." Regis put emphasis on tried. "Then you teleported out, and it took me half an hour to find you again. You were fighting a group of barghests, and you almost got me."

"Oh…"

"I can't tell what that oh means." Regis chuckled at a joke only he got. "Anyway, have you considered becoming a doctor, or a surgeon? With your calm, you might be successful in the medical field."

"Don't wanna. Someone might die because of me."

"A sad way to look at it, but unfortunately people do die on you." Regis sighed. "I regret every life I couldn't save. Sometimes, I cry about it. No shame in releasing your feelings. But I don't let myself dwell over it, otherwise I could be distracted while trying to save the life of a patient, and that could cost them dearly. But enough about that, let's switch to a lighter topic while we wait for Geralt to wake up." Regis pat Geralt and rechecked him. Satisfied he still wasn't dying, Regis turned back to Milly. "I might just die of worry if I'm not distracted. I know Geralt won't die on me at the moment, but I can't help myself. So, what are some of your hobbies?"

"Uh, I like to read…"

"Ooh, so do I? What kind of books?"

"…Books."

"Ah, yes. Very informative. In fact, I could tell you what your personality is, down to the most minute tics." Regis sassed. "I shall get the ball rolling for you. I like to read fairy tales and mystery novels, along with anything that has to do with medicine and plants. They're my special interests, you see. So, what's your favorite genre?"

"Fantasy."

"Ooh, I love fantasy, too! Although I tire of books where there is a completely new world, but it has the same limitations as ours. Am I making sense?"

"Yeah, I've noticed that too. No one ever wants to acknowledge that LGBT, disabled, or people of different races exist. Everyone wants to create something new, but they don't even put any thought into making it new. At the very least, they could have their books be different by acknowledging these people exist."

"Couldn't have said it better myself." Regis rechecked Geralt. "Oh, I do worry. Geralt here could die, and my friend, Dettlaff…"

"What happened?"

"Let's just say he is in some deep shit. Oh, I bet he's crying, alone and suffering all on his lonesome, without anyone to comfort him…" Regis' lip quivered as he felt deep empathy and sadness over the thought.

\-----

"Um." Dettlaff stared at the weird child standing on his roof.

"Hi." The white-haired teen responded awkwardly.

"…Who are you and what the fuck are you doing on my roof?"

"Hi, I'm Cas, a witcher. I'm looking for Regis." Is what the teen meant to say. Instead, what came out of his mouth was, "Hi, I'm a nest inspector, here to inspect your best for drugs." Cas immediately slapped himself, then turned into fog and "ran" away. He saw a group of screaming guys running away from something earlier. Maybe he could join them.

"…What the fuck?" Was all Dettlaff could say after that strange encounter. He huffed and jumped back off the roof, careful to not let his bulky bags of groceries slip. He stepped inside his house and began to prepare a simple dinner for two.

\-----

"Regis, don't cry! Everything's gonna turn out fine! The potion will work, and you can find Dettlaff!" Milly awkwardly reached over and pat Regis' shoulder. "Here, you can blow your nose on my dress if you need to."

"Thank you, you're so kind…" Regis pushed away the skirt of Milly's dress. "But… I just want to help him…"

"You will. You just need to be patient. When Geralt's done, he's gonna be fine, and he will know where Dettlaff is."

"I know."

The two sat in silence. Regis fussed over Geralt as Milly grew bored with the situation. Regis replaced the improvised pillow under Geralt's head with his own lap. Immediately, Geralt stilled. For a moment Regis thought he was going to die, but then Geralt relaxed and snuggled closer. Regis ran his fingers through Geralt's hair with a smile on his face that was soon copied by Geralt.

"So, do you live here?"

Regis mentally cursed when Milly spoiled the mood. "I guess so."

"Why here? This place seems… death-y."

"It's free, and no one bothers me here."

"What about Girl Scouts, though? Don't you want them to come to your door and sell you their cookies?"

"No, I don't. I rather like being undisturbed." Regis grew more and more annoyed, becoming passive-aggressive.

"Fair enough." Milly shifted in her seat. "Where are you from?"

"Um," Regis thought of what answer he should give. "Dilingen. Where are you from?"

"Kovir."

"Ah, that explains the accent. I like it, by the way. So, what is it like this time of year? Is it true that everyone lives in luxury?"

"Well, the area I was living in got hit pretty hard by the Catriona, so…" Milly shrugged.

"I'm sorry."

"Ugh, don't give me your pity." Milly wrinkled her nose. "Pity helps no one, and I've gotten enough of it to last me a lifetime."

"I apologize. I did not mean to demean you."

"Mm."

After a beat, Geralt turned his head into Regis' thigh. He muttered something in his sleep. Regis couldn't help but find it adorable. Then Geralt mouthed at his leg and bobbed his head up and down. Regis didn't know whether he should stop him or let him move around the way he wants. Geralt moaned, producing the strong scent of arousal, and Regis put his hand underneath Geralt's head. Geralt whimpered a bit, but he didn't continue. Regis looked to Milly. She didn't seem to have even noticed.

Regis let out a sigh of relief. "Milly, I think Geralt will be fine now. You can go downstairs."

"Okay." Milly proceeded to do just that.

When Milly had disappeared from sight, Regis pulled Geralt up so that he was holding him in his arms, Geralt resting in his lap. Regis proceeded to cuddle the hell out of him as though he was a cute teddy bear given by a lover. Geralt laid his head on Regis' shoulder, making owner of said shoulder smile and snuggle harder.

\-----

Geralt slowly awoke, eyes adjusting to the soft glow of the candles. The first thing he noticed that he was in a comfortably cool embrace, like ice cream on a hot day. He found that he was laying down, with an arm wrapped around his waist. Geralt took hold of the hand and squeezed it, prompting a deep chuckle that sent wonderful, fluttering feelings throughout his body.

"Awake at last. How are you feeling? Did it work?" Regis sleepily mumbled into the back of Geralt's neck. 

"…Surprisingly, I feel good." Geralt realized that Regis' other arm was his pillow, and that they were spooning. He didn't know whether or not he wanted Regis to be shirtless.

"Are you in any pain?" Regis rubbed Geralt's belly as best he could with Geralt still holding his hand.

"No, not really…" Something was wrong. Geralt didn't know what, but something was seriously wrong.

"Good, good. For a moment I had feared that you were going to die…"

"I'm still here." Geralt squeezed Regis' hand again. "Not going anywhere."

"I know, I know, but I am a natural worrywart, especially over… my friends." Regis suddenly remembered something important. "Resonance… Did it work…?"

Geralt froze. He searched his mind for anything resembling a dream, but he was drawing a complete blank.

"Geralt… please tell me it worked."

Geralt could not remember his drug-induced dream, if he even had one.

"This isn't funny… Geralt, please…"

"I… it didn't work."


	20. Chapter 20

"W… Wha…? What do you mean it didn't work?"

"Didn't get any visions. Hell, didn't even dream."

Regis' throat went dry. He tightened his hold on Geralt, closed his eyes, and desperately wished this was just a bad dream.

"Hey, it's ok. We can make another batch."

"The last batch," Regis swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "It took up all of the wight saliva. And you broke the curse on it- her, so…"

Geralt rubbed Regis' hand with his thumb. "I could drink this batch again." But he knew as well as Regis it simply wasn't viable. Another dose could kill him, not to mention it likely wouldn't work.

"Dammit. I would curse the gods if it would do me any good." Regis sniffled, and his voice cracked. "I even had Dettlaff's address on a piece of paper…"

"What happened?"

"It got incinerated, along with some of my clothes. I pissed off a sorceress, and…"

"Shhh." Geralt turned around so that he was facing Regis. He cupped his face in his hands and whispered words of reassurance. "Don't need to give any details. Doubt it was your fault, anyway."

Regis started crying freely. "Thank you. Just being here with you is already making me feel better."

They cuddled in silence for a while, appreciating each other's constrasting body heats. They shifted around until Regis was the little spoon before settling in. Geralt hugged Regis tight as he took in the scent of herbs and something pleasantly dizzy. Unbeknowst to Geralt, his scent had the same effect on Regis.

With each passing second, Regis grew stronger. Maybe it was due to Geralt's prescence, maybe it was just the care and love he was receiving, but either way Regis felt strong enough to travel again. Maybe he could even carry Geralt around like he's always dreamed of. The thought made him smile and lay his hand on Geralt's.

"Any better?"

"Yeah." Geralt nuzzled into Regis' shoulder. "You?"

"I feel myself recovering the longer we stay like this." Regis turned his head towards Geralt's.

"Same here." Geralt remarked. "Wish we could stay like this forever…"

"I potentially could, you couldn't."

"Yeah yeah, I know. Won't stop me from wishing, though."

Regis smiled. What little fever was left in him dissipated as he properly processed Geralt's confession. Clearly, Geralt felt some kind of love for Regis. Even if it was strictly platonic, at least he loved Regis. Just the thought eased Regis' worries and allowed him to heal faster.

\-----

"Geralt?"

"Mm?"

"How will we find Dettlaff now?"

"Hm. We could just ask around for him. Someone might've seen him." Geralt sat up, helping Regis up with him. "It's a long shot, but who knows? We could also summon Dettlaff."

"No. I absolutely refuse to. You and I both would be in significant danger." Regis reluctantly let go of Geralt and dusted off his jacket.

"Asking people it is."

"Oh! We should ask around in the port district, that's the general location Dettlaff could be. Although it is very general. I only know he's there because someone helped me with finding his home. Granted, I didn't actually find it, but it's something to go off of."

"Mm. Got a drawing of him?" Geralt stood at the stairs.

"Maybe. Let me just…" Regis rifled through a drawer until he procured a piece of paper. "Here it is!" The piece of paper held a near-perfect coal picture of Dettlaff van der Eretein. It was smudged in several places, but his image could still be made out. "Courtesy of one of my friends!"

"Any more copies?"

"No, sorry, just the one."

"Looks like we'll have to work together." Geralt carefully examined the picture. "If you're strong enough to, of course."

"Don't worry, Geralt - I have recovered. Fully. Now do you wish to leave now, or…?"

"Sure. No reason not to."

\-----

A hand shaking Milly awoke her from her slumber. She bitchslapped the hand and turned over, trying to fall asleep again. Two hands shook her, forcing her to open her eyes.

"Wha…?"

"We're going to Beauclair."

"No."

"Kid…"

"Allow me, Geralt." Regis' voice resounded. "Milly, wake up. We, Geralt and I, are making a trip to Beauclair, and since it's on the way to…"

"Corvo Bianco."

"Corvo Bianco, we figured we could escort you to Beauclair and let you travel the rest of the way back. That's where you live, right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know the way back from Beauclair?"

"Yeah." Milly sat up.

"Good, good. Before we get going, allow me to ask you something…" Regis unrolled a sheet of paper with a drawing of a guy's face on it. "Do you recognize this man, by any chance?"

Milly swallowed the lump in her throat. "No"

"You sure?" Geralt asked. "Cause if you're lying…"

"Geralt…" Regis shot Geralt a look. Geralt grumbled, but he backed off. "So, this man's name is Dettlaff van der Eretein. He's a dear friend of mine, and he's in trouble. A mountain of trouble. If I don't find him soon, he might die."

"…What kind of trouble?"

"He's being blackmailed. And the patterns between the victims of the Beast indicate that he is a potential target." Regis lied. "I hope to remedy the situation and get him out of the country before he gets hurt. Unfortunately, we don't have a lot of information to go off of, so anything helps." Regis tapped the paper where the drawing was. "Anything." After a beat where Milly stared at the paper, Regis shooed away Geralt. "There. Is that better?"

"Yeah." Milly was very relieved to not have Geralt around.

"So," Regis scooted himself over until he was sitting at Milly's side. He tilted the paper so Milly could see it. "We believe he resides in the port district, but we don't know where exactly. All efforts to track him down so far have failed, miserably. If you know anything about his whereabouts, or if you've even spotted him in passing, please let me know. As I said before, he is very dear to me."

"…"

"In case you're wondering, no action will be taken against you, regardless of how you respond. Geralt did not seem to recognize you, and you already now how I stand on the matter. Therefore you need not fear repercussions." Regis rubbed Milly's back as he spoke, patiently waiting for her to speak up. "So, have you seen Dettlaff?"

Milly was silent for a long time before telling the truth. "Yeah." And then she told the story of how she had seen him.


	21. Chapter 21

"I'm just saying, there were many variables. It wasn't your fault the Resonance didn't work. In fact, I consider it a very lucky thing that you survived." Regis daid in an attempt at comfort, then winced as he realized the effect his last sentence could have.

"Still feel bad, though. If I didn't-"

"Hush, Geralt." Regis put a hand on Geralt's arm. "You can't change anything now, so try not to dwell too much. You might make the young girl here sad as well."

"I have low empathy." Milly shot back.

"Oh…" Regis cleared his throat. "Well, Geralt, it's bad for you to dwell on these things. I've fully healed from the ordeal, and you are alive and well. Besides, you've lifted a century-old curse on a poor woman and gave her a second chance at life. That in itself-" Regis stumbled over a rock and fell. He reflexively turned to fog to avoid the impact.

"You okay?!" Geralt immediately crouched down.

Regis quickly turned back. "Yes."

It was only then that Milly registered something had happened. Despite being next to him, Milly didn't even notice Regis had fallen. She turned her head to Regis, who was already being lifted up onto his feet.

"Thank you, dear… friend." Regis smiled at Geralt once he was standing. He realized Geralt's hands lingered on his hips as Regis placed his hands on Geralt's waist. Geralt had such a tiny waist. Truly adorable.

"Mhm, no problem." Geralt took a single step forward. Regis looked so kissable right now. He wished he could just close the distance between them and kiss him all night long. Instead, he admired Regis' wide hips, perfect for holding onto while slow-dancing.

A loud, pointed clearing of the throat broke the moment. Geralt and Regis turned to Milly, who was standing a few feet away looking awkward as hell. Regis sighed and separated himself from Geralt. They went along their merry way, pointedly ignoring what happened between Geralt and Regis.

\-----

It wasn't long before something unusual occured, something so awe-striking the group had to stop and stare. It was such an oddity that even a four-hundred-year-old vampire had never quite seen the likes of it. Geralt, however, was all too familiar with the occurence, and the headaches that came with it.

"Roach! There you are! Been looking for you for hours!" Geralt shouted at the horse stuck in a tree. Said horse simply neighed in response. Geralt brought his fingers to his lips and whistled. Roach moved her hind legs in response, but otherwise nothing happened. She was levitating and stuck in the tree. And standing on her hind legs.

"Allow me." Regis told the group once he recovered from his shock. He went up to the tree, directly under the horse. He kicked the tree once, and Roach immediately fell. Regis caught her by her hind legs, with her front legs over his shoulders. Roach snorted in mild annoyance as Regis carefully lowered her to the ground.

"Thanks, Regis." Geralt said as he mounted Roach.

"It's no problem at all!" Regis smiled. The smile was wiped off his face as he realized that Milly could have seen him.

Unbeknowst to him, Milly had been too preoccupied with drawing a dirt masterpiece with her foot to even notice that Roach was back on the ground. In fact, Geralt had to have Roach stand in front of her to get her attention.

"Hey, Milly!" Geralt called out. Milly looked up at him. "Let's get a move on."

Milly stopped doodling and noticed the panicked, inhuman screeching, which seemed to be very close. "What the fuck is that?"

"Uh…"

"Wait, nevermind. It's just Regis." Milly had looked around the horse to discover Regis screaming like there's no tomorrow. "Why's he screaming?"

"I dunno." Geralt cast axii on Roach.

"Oh." Milly said. Suddenly, she was overcome with a deep, primal desire. It bubbled inside her, like a pot of boiling water. It would make her burst until pressure was released, so Milly tilted her head back and screamed at the top of her lungs.

Geralt rubbed his temples. "Why is this happening to me?"

\-----

It took a great deal of time, sanity, and patience for Geralt to get them to stop screaming. He groaned and sat down afterwards. Geralt sulked as he thought about his situation. He was travelling with two screaming babies, one was a child that wore shitty dresses, got dirty all the time, was a pale bitch-ass, thought they were the shit, and was so overgrown they could pass for an adult, and the other was some teenager he had found sneaking around the mausoleum earlier. 

Geralt got up and prepared to travel again. As he did so, a decoction fell out of his pocket and rolled behind him. Geralt sighed and turned around, conveniently giving Regis a view of his behind, and his legs. Geralt did as Vesemir trained him to do and moved his leg out near the decoction, keeping it straight. He then dragged his hands down his leg, back bending over more prominently as he did so. Once he could grab his decoction, he did just that and snapped his back and arms back up, returning his leg to shoulder-length position.

Geralt felt eyes on him. He turned around and found both Regis and Milly to be staring at him. Milly was staring with wide eyes, and had her lips pressed together and pulled in discomfort. Regis had his mouth open, and was leaking drool all over his chin. Geralt gave him a small smile, and Regis looked like he was going to faint.

Suddenly, Milly started screaming again.

"Oh, what is it now?" Geralt went up and re-attempted axii on Milly. Like all the other times he tried, it failed. Milly seemed to be immune to the sign.

"I JUST REMEMBERED GERALT'S A STRIPPER!!!!" Milly screeched at the top of her lungs, reaching an almost inhuman volume and pitch.

"GERALT IS NOT A STRIPPER!!!!" Regis yelled in offended rage. He joined Milly in her screaming.

"Oh fuck, not again…" Geralt facepalmed. "Look, uh, I used to be one!"

Both children stopped screaming and looked at Geralt in horror.

"Yeah, I was a stripper for a short time. Made a hell of a lotta money doing so. I still strip for people, sometimes. Prostitution, too. Only when I'm strapped for cash, though." Geralt scratched the back of his head as he elaborated.

All was silent for a beat. Then, Milly raised a single finger and declared, "Knew it!"

"So she was…" Was Regis… blushing? "Oh dear, uh, I need a few minutes, if you don't mind?" With that, Regis ran away as fast as he possibly could. At the same time, Milly had spaced out. She had missed Regis' extraordinary, superhuman feat.

"What's with him?" Geralt asked. "He keeps getting flustered. You'd think he was in love with me."

Milly grunted, not really hearing Geralt. She was stuck in her own little world.

"I mean, he's always looking at my hands or my mouth, sometimes my crotch too. He never does that to anyone else. You think it's cuz he's… or am I just looking into it too much?"

"Eh."

"Yeah, probably just imagining it."

"…What?"

As Milly came back into the world of reality, Regis came back to the group. He had significantly calmed down, although his hair was a mess. He seemed to blush as he looked Geralt up and down.

"Let's get a move on, shall we?" Regis nervously laughed. Geralt sighed and whistled, summoning Roach.

\-----

"Well well well, what have we got here?" The leader of the bandit group bellowed as he circled around the small group of travelers. "A regular wanna-be knight, an old man, and a whore."

"Geralt is far more than those three things, and if you simply took the time to get to know him-"

"Regis. They're talking about all three of us." Milly pointed out.

Regis pondered that statement. "But who's who? As far as I know, you don't fit any of those qualities, and I fit two."

"Yeah, kinda wish I could get laid." Milly sighed.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" A bandit yelled.

"Geralt's a prostitute, so he's the one who gets laid a lot. I'm clearly not an old man, so that must be you." Milly pointed to Regis at the end.

"I'm only a prostitute sometimes!"

"Still a prostitute!" Milly retorted.

"That's it! Attack them! Do it in the name of Dipshite!" The leader loudly declared as he pounded his shield with his mace. The victims, or so he thought, burst into laughter. "What's so funny?!"

"Your name's, ha ha, YOUR NAME'S DIPSHIT!" Milly laughed hard and pointed at Dipshite.

"How dare you! My name is Dipshite, most fearsome bandit in all the lands, slayer of a thousand men!"

"Yeah, because they were too busy laughing." Geralt retorted after his bout of laughter passed.

"Were you trying to inspire fear in us? I genuinely cannot figure it out." Regis was the only one polite enough to try and suppress his laughter, but it was all in vain.

Dipshite sighed and lowered his arms. "Yes. I chose it because…"

"Because it was better than, hm, Taserface?!" Milly burst out in laughter over her own mockery. Regis smacked her on the arm, and she stopped immediately.

"Mh-hm." Dipshite nodded. "All my friends mocked me for going by Taserface, so I started going by Dipshite. At least none of them laugh at me for it…"

The other bandits looked at each other sheepishly. They made fun of Dipshite's name behind his back. They had no idea he was so sensitive.

"Uh, how about we help you choose a cooler name? One that will strike fear into the hearts of your enemies at a mere whisper?" Milly was quick to try and help.

"Like what?"

"Like, uh, how about Dagger?"

"…I use a sword and shield."

"I suggest Dirk Winter. That seems sufficiently intimidating." Regis contributed.

"Hmm, Flame? Or Steele? I'm not good with names." Geralt added after Dipshite considered Regis' suggestion.

"Ooh ooh ooh, I've got one, how about the Blade of Death?" Milly blurted out as she looked to Dipshite.

"Blade of Death…" Dipshite pondered for a bit, then he smiled. "Blade of Death! That's perfect! From now on I shall be the Blade of Death!"

Everyone cheered at the newly-knighted Blade as he threw his sword in the air and declared his new name to the whole world. Even Geralt was a bit excited for him. However, Milly was the most enthusiastic audience member in the area.

"Thank you so much! Now I know none of my victims will laugh at me! Tell me, what are your names?"

"Milly!"

"Geralt of Rivia!"

"Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy!"

"…What?" All bandits said at once.

Regis sighed. "Regis!"

"Thank you, friends! I'll let you go! C'mon boys, let's celebrate! Drinks on me!" Blade led his bandits away in search of the nearest tavern. "And I'll stop using slut-shaming language, too!"

Milly watched in surprise as the bandits simply left. "…Wow, I thought I wasn't gonna survive that for a second."

"You weren't gonna get hurt." Geralt patted Milly's shoulder. He backed off when he saw Milly bristle up. "Sorry."

"It's ok. Ooh, a penny!" Milly completely forgot about the people next to her in favor of a practically worthless copper coin. She dashed towards the coin, away from the gay soulmates.

"To be honest, I was expecting a fiiIIIIIIGHT!!!!" Geralt had only begun to walk again when he tripped over a loose stone. He fell down, unable to keep his balance. He expected to hit the ground when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist and stopped him mid-fall. Geralt began to slip out of the grasp, and an arm quickly slid to his knee and lifted his leg up while the opposite arm adjusted itself to accomodate the shift in Geralt's center of gravity.

"And here I thought you were sure-footed." Regis teased as he held Geralt in a dip.

"Shut up."

"I wasn't the one who didn't look where I was going." Regis chuckled. He leaned closer, shortening the distance between them until they were touching chest-to-chest. Geralt wrapped his arms around Regis' shoulders, closing the distance even further. Regis' face shifted in transformation as he fought the urge to kiss Geralt, stopping himself halfway through.

"Your nose looks so cute like that." Geralt softly mumbled. Had Regis been human, his heart would have skipped a beat. Geralt pulled himself up, using Regis as support. His lips ghosted over Regis', so close that all it would take for them to kiss is a light breeze.

"Uh…" Milly interrupted. She had just returned from her penny-hunting adventures. "Do you two need a moment?"

Regis and Geralt wore matching scowls. Regis took a deep breath and shifted his face back to normal. Geralt wriggled out of the dip, suddenly overcome with romantic anxiety. He backed away from Regis, cursing himself for his cowardice.

"No, Milly, we don't. Let's go." Regis stalked off, hands balled into fists and shoulders hackled. Geralt and Milly followed behind a short distance away, Geralt because he thought being around Regis would only hurt him more, and Milly because she was afraid of Regis himself in that moment.

\-----

"So this is where Dettlaff lives…" Geralt looked at the door barring entry. He tested the lock and found it to be shut.

"It's a toy shop." Milly blurted. "He makes toys here."

"Your powers of observation astound me, truly." Regis sassed.

"Thanks."

"Won't budge. Gotta break it down." Geralt thought aloud.

"Can't you just pick the-" Milly was shushed by Geralt raising a finger.

"Did you hear that?" Geralt said in a quieter than normal voice.

"Hear what?" The only human in the group replied.

"Grunting, muffled grunting, coming from within." Regis automatically answered as he rubbed his palms together.

"How could you hear that?" Milly questioned, oblivious to the fact that Regis was a vampire.

"Uhh…"

"You think that's Dettlaff?" Geralt metaphorically swooped in and saved Regis as he heard a thud.

"What? Oh no, I don't think so, it seems… different from Dettlaff." Regis noticed an odd, faint scent in the air. "Milly, did you wear cologne when you came here last?"

"I don't wear stuff like that." Milly shrugged.

"Hm, scent seems to be coming from inside. And I'm guessing Dettlaff doesn't wear cologne…"

"You would be correct in your assumption. Such sprays are too strong for Dettlaff to bear. He can tolerate it on other people, but not if it's sprayed near or on him." After he finished his sentence, Regis went ahead and turned into fog, floating into the house.

"Uh…" Geralt looked to Milly, who stared straight ahead with glazed-over eyes. "Milly?"

"Huh, what?" Milly shook out of her trance. "Sorry, I spaced out there."

"Nevermind." Geralt told her as Regis opened the door and held it open for Geralt. "Nice. Ever consider becoming a burglar? Skill like that'd come in awful handy."

"I considered it briefly, but ultimately concluded it would be terribly dull. Come." Regis jutted his head into the house.

"Wait, you thought being a thief would be boring?!" Milly couldn't believe her ears. She whipped around to stare at Regis with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, or as much of both as she could get with her weak orbital muscles.

"It simply doesn't suit my personality. Much like an energetic young person that thrives in the outdoors is simply not suited to work in libraries and treasuries all day long, I am not suited to the life of a thief."

"Ah, that's fair." Milly nodded in understanding as Geralt stepped into the house.

"Would you mind staying out here? Dettlaff might get overwhelmed by too many people in his home at once and try to flee."

Milly shrugged. "Sure."

"Thank you. If you see Dettlaff, or if there's trouble, yell. We will come to you in an instant." Regis instructed her, noting the moon high in the sky.

"'Kay."

Regis shut the door, separating himself and Geralt from Milly. He paused afterwards in confusion. "Is it just me or is there a human in here?"

"Heard him too. Sounds like he's upstairs."

The two synced together and snuck upstairs, Geralt reaching for his sword just in case. When they turned the corner halfway-up, a piece of wood broke off the room-stair divider and disappeared with a thud and another grunt. Geralt rushed up the stairs, stopping himself from drawing his sword just yet, and was glad he did. At his feet was a man in his forties, dressed in nobleman's clothes, with rope tied around his wrists and a cloth gag in his mouth.

Regis removed the gag while Geralt got to work untying the man's wrists. The man breathed deep after the gag was taken away, dribbling more drool onto his beard. Once Geralt was done untying the difficult knot (which certainly wasn't helped by the metal loop it was tied into), he helped the man up to a sitting position.

"Are you okay?" Regis, ever the empathetic, asked about his health first.

"No!" The man backed away from them.

"Easy. We're not here to hurt you." Geralt raised his hands as a sign of peace.

"Dettlaff said something similar, and lookie here!" The man spat and glared daggers at the newcomers before him. "Did he send you here to watch me?! To make sure I don't escape?!"

"Dettlaff? We're not with him. In fact, we broke in here." Regis lifted up the gag. "Besides, we wouldn't have freed you if we wanted to keep you here."

"You say that!" The man crossed his arms and looked away, carefully avoiding their gazes.

Regis looked to Geralt for support. Geralt sighed and spoke up. "I'm looking for Dettlaff so I can turn him in." At Regis' glare, he added: "Preferrably alive."

"You're… you're guardsmen?" The man looked to them, finally realizing he could trust them.

"Not exactly. Duchess hired me to find Dettlaff." Geralt put a hand on his chest, then he pointed to Regis. "He's a… friend of mine who just wants to help."

"My name is Regis, and he is Geralt. Mind telling us your name?" Regis offered his hand with a small smile.

The man took Regis' hand and shook it. "Louis de la Croix."


	22. Chapter 22

"De la Croix? As in the body that was found in the river?" Geralt asked, even more curious than before.

"What?"

"Body was found in the river, near the Cockatrice inn. Handkerchief was found in the same spot, monogrammed 'd.l.C.'." Geralt took said handkerchief out of his pocket and showed it to Louis. "It was used to identify you."

"Yes, that's mine! My late grandfather gave it to me for my birthday!" Louis confirmed. "…Was the body female?"

"No. In fact, it looked just like you."

"Oh, thank Lebioda." Louis sighed in relief. "I feared for my family."

Regis, knowing Louis likely didn't know anything about the murder, decided to change the subject. "Were you kidnapped?"

"No, I was just tied up and trying to break out because that's my kink. Of course I was kidnapped!" Louis screamed and threw his arms up.

"My apologies, I did not mean to antagonize you. I simply wish to confirm assumptions."

Louis ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "It's… it's okay. Things have been… bad for me, since that motherfucker kidnapped me!" Louis' voice raised as he remembered the incident. "He made me think he loved me, then he hypnotized and kidnapped me! Kept me away from my family!"

"Dettlaff?" Geralt inquired.

"Yes, him." Louis spat. "When I get my hands on him, I will choke the life out of him, vampirism be damned!"

Regis and Geralt looked at each other, then back to Louis. "What exactly happened when Dettlaff kidnapped you, and while you were here?" Geralt said the burning question.

Louis sighed. "The day he kidnapped me, I had taken him to my mill. He had mentioned he was a freelance carpenter, so I wanted his opinion on the structure…"

\----

"…And then mother insisted I buy the mill! Hah, curious, eh?" Louis walked over to the small window and opened it, letting in a bit more light.

Dettlaff did not respond. Emotions churned, spoiled, and boiled in his gut. He could hear Louis walking around, oblivious to what Dettlaff was about to do.

"But at least I've a yarn to spin for friends and associates." Dettlaff flinched when Louis casually patted his shoulder.

Dettlaff was silent. Then, he turned to Louis. "Forgive me…" Dettlaff closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

Louis looked away, then back at Dettlaff. "What…?"

Dettlaff opened his eyes and faced Louis, looking him dead in the eye. He focused intently on him, psychically projecting his will into Louis. Louis' eyes glazed over, and drool leaked from the corner of his mouth.

"Follow me." Dettlaff commanded with a deep, dark tone. Normally, Louis may have been excited by such a sexually arousing voice, but this was not a normal situation. "Don't worry, you're going to stay unharmed."

Louis nodded blankly, mind numbed and unthinking. Dettlaff took his hand and led him out the building. Dettlaff's heart squeezed, and tears brimmed in the corners of his eyes. Dettlaff blinked them away. Louis would be okay. Rhenawedd would be okay. He told himself that even as he stepped out the mill.

\----

Louis groaned as the mind control wore off. He shook his head to clear the fuzz, but it only made it worse. Louis shut his eyes against the glaring light and tried to stand up. Key word tried.

His wrists were stuck to an unknown object behind him. After some experimentation, Louis found that he was bound to what appeared to be a hook attached to the wall. He sighed. So he was kidnapped again. Louis cautiously opened his eyes, finding the light to be softer than he thought. The room he was in contained a bed with several blankets. Turning to his left, he found a desk with what appeared to be wood shavings littered all over it. It was then that Louis registered the scent of wood. He took in the details of the room, stomach dropping with every toy he found.

Louis heard a door open somewhere, probably downstairs. He quickly leaned back and shut his eyes. After several agonizingly long moments, footsteps boomed to his right, shocking his ears. Still, Louis kept up the act.

"I know you're awake." A familiar voice spoke up.

Louis opened his eyes, half-expecting a stranger to be standing before him, but instead it was Dettlaff, holding a cloth bag. Dettlaff stood before him, looking him up and down. He made no move to free Louis.

"What are you waiting for? Untie me!" Louis leaned forward, gesturing to the ropes around his wrists. Still, Dettlaff made no move to free him. "Are you just going to stand there all day?!"

"Forgive me." Dettlaff repeated. He turned away and put his bag on the table. He fished a box out of it and opened it. "Do you want a muffin?"

"No! I want to be untied!" Louis shouted, making Dettlaff wince and cover his ear.

"Water then?"

"No! What… what the fuck is going on?! Why haven't you unbound me?! Why are you acting so strange?!"

Dettlaff stayed silent. He kept his back to Louis as he unpacked the bag. He sorted out his goodies by type, dividing by food, clothes, and books.

"No… Don't tell me…"

"Yes, it's true."

Louis was shocked into silence. His thoughts raced a million miles a second. He didn't even register Dettlaff sit before him until he tapped his shoulder. Louis fixed Dettlaff with an icy glare, forcing him to scoot back a little.

"Explain. Now."

"I was going to..." Dettlaff muttered. He cleared his throat before speaking again in a normal conversational volume. "Um, I, uh, I had to kidnap you in order to keep you safe. I haven't gone near your family, if that's what you were worried about."

Louis raised an eyebrow. "Protect me from what?"

Dettlaff cleared his throat again, stalling for time. "Long story."

"I've got plenty of time." Louis rebutted, gesturing to the ropes.

"…Just know the alternative is worse." Dettlaff got up and went back to his desk, retrieving the box.

"What alternative?"

"Death." After he said it, Dettlaff realized Louis wouldn't take it well. "Um, you would have been attacked and likely killed."

"I'm-"

"I know, you're a knight. But… you would have died. Believe me." Dettlaff stood in front of Louis and held the opened box. "Do you wish to eat now?"

"Fuck you."

"…Suit yourself." Dettlaff helped himself to a muffin.

\-----

"I made you some toys." Dettlaff laid said toys in front of Louis. The pile included a doll, a top, some blocks, and a wood figurine.

"So that's why you were downstairs…" Louis realized. "But I can't exactly play with them, can I?"

Dettlaff sighed. He reached behind Louis and undid the bindings. "Don't run away, please."

Louis rubbed his wrists, trying to restore circulation to them. "Did you make those from scratch?"

"Yes." Dettlaff hid his hands behind his back.

"How did you do it so quickly?"

"I'm very talented."

"…I see." Louis looked down at his current outfit. "Wait a minute. These aren't my clothes."

"They're mine." Dettlaff stated.

"Where are my clothes?"

"…Being laundered."

"Oh fuck, is my handkerchief with them?" Louis groaned and ran a hand down his face.

"Your handkerchief?"

"A red one, monogrammed with the initials of my last name. Passed down to me from my late grandfather. I was carrying it in my shirt pocket."

Dettlaff hesitated before speaking. "I will get a friend of mine to look for it. She's good at finding things."

"But you won't leave, because you've got me here."

"Partially." Dettlaff put the doll in Louis' hands. "Here. This will make you feel better. You can also hug me, if you want."

"No."

\----

Louis strained himself to hear the ongoing conversation between his captor and some woman. They were speaking in quiet, hushed voices, making it near impossible for Louis to even detect with his pitiful human ears.

Louis, still free, craned his neck out the doorway. Still, he couldn't make out a thing. Louis cautiously stood up and stuck his foot out. He had only taken two steps down the stairs when the floorboards made a slight creak. He froze. What little he could hear of Dettlaff and his friend abruptly cut itself off.

"This is a private conversation, Louis." Dettlaff said in a voice loud enough for Louis to hear clearly.

"How did you even hear me?!"

"I have very good hearing. Now, if you don't need anything, please get back into the bedroom."

"Ugh." Louis stomped back up, intentionally making as much noise as possible. He wanted Dettlaff and his sensitive hearing to suffer. And Louis was going to enjoy it.

Louis kicked a block, wincing when it hurt his toe. Stupid damn sexy dark men. Why did Louis always fall for them? They always hurt him in the end. And Dettlaff was no different. He trusted Dettlaff, and Dettlaff did nothing but toy with Louis, play with his heart and then kidnap him while his guard was down.

Louis barely heard Dettlaff climbing up the stairs, but he heard him. When Dettlaff stepped through the doorway, Louis threw all his weight into Dettlaff, slamming him into the wall and elbowing him in the face. Dettlaff was stunned by the ambush long enough for Louis to flee. Louis had almost reached the bottom of the stairs when Dettlaff grabbed him from behind with an iron grip, preventing his escape. Louis kicked and screamed, but it was no use. Dettlaff dragged him back upstairs, easily resisting Louis' attempts at breaking free.

"Let me go!"

"I can't!"

"I said LET ME GO!!!" Louis threw his head back and headbutted Dettlaff so hard Louis himself was stunned. It gave Dettlaff just enough time to re-tie Louis to the metal loop on the wall.

"There." Dettlaff secured the rope just as Louis recovered. "I'll release you when you calm down."

"You can't keep me here, you bastard! When I break free, I'll choke the life out of you!"

"Hey, I'm doing something nice for you! I sent someone to find your hanky!" Dettlaff yelled and stood before Louis with an intimidating aura.

"You kidnapped me! Am I supposed to be grateful that you're doing the bare minimum?!"

Dettlaff took a deep breath before speaking. "I had to hide you away. You're in danger."

"What danger?! Just fucking tell me!" Louis argued as he yanked on the ropes. "You haven't told me shit, why should I believe you're protecting me?! I'm not one of those helpless young adult protagonists that let dark brooding men drag them around and ruin them, I'm a living, breathing person, and if you won't let me walk free then at least tell me what's going on!"

Dettlaff turned around and dragged a hand down his face. He turned back to Louis and thought up a simple explanation for him. "You were to be killed. Brutally, might I add. I knocked you out and brought you here, then I switched you out for a lookalike drunkard. As it stands, those who wanted you killed think you're dead, and I'd rather keep it that way."

"…So if I'm running around on the streets, assassins will be sent after me?"

"Yes. I'm glad you understand." Dettlaff smiled at Louis, who only frowned in response.

"Dettlaff, I can take care of myself. I've handled assassination attempts before. My whole family's experienced an assassination attempt at least once. I'm not exactly the most popular knight in Toussant." Louis tilted his head to the side and showed Dettlaff a scar on his neck to prove his point. "I can kick any assassin all the way to Kovir."

"…Not this assassin." Dettlaff couldn't meet his gaze.

"There's something you're not telling me."

"You'll be better off not knowing. Trust me." Dettlaff rubbed Louis' knee. Louis yanked his leg away and sneered.

\-----

Louis kicked the boards behind him in yet another effort to escape. Dettlaff had suddenly run off earlier after putting a letter away in a music box. Louis had no idea why he left in such a hurry, but he wasn't sticking around to find out.

He apparently had perfect comedic timing, for it was no sooner than Louis thought that that Dettlaff slammed the front door open. Louis readjusted himself to hide the minor structural damage behind him and waited. A few seconds later, Dettlaff stormed into the room.

"I can't stick around. Emergency. If anyone comes by here, do not make a sound." Dettlaff gathered up some things and put them in his pockets.

"What's goiiimmmph?" Louis had a piece of cloth shoved in his mouth in the middle of his sentence.

"Listen; someone might be after me. He's already killed someone dear to me. Therefore, I need you to stay put until I tell you it's safe. Do you understand?"

Louis nodded, if only to get Dettlaff off his back.

"Good. I will be back later. If someone breaks in here, scream. I will be here as soon as I can." With that, Dettlaff seemed to disappear right in front of Louis' eyes.

Louis blinked. He spat out the gag and looked for Dettlaff, then he mentally shrugged and continued his escape attempt. It was odd, how Dettlaff didn't make any noise when he walked. It sure did make it harder for Louis to memorize and anticipate his patterns. Not to mention how easy it was for Dettlaff to sneak up on him.

Come to think of it, Dettlaff's reflection didn't show up when he went in the house of mirrors. Then again, Louis was in the middle of passing out from dehydration, so maybe that was just a product of his addled mind. Dettlaff seemed to have been emotionally affected when Louis mentioned his fear of vampires. He seemed to have been angry and hurt. Maybe Dettlaff was a fan of vampires?

"Ugh, why do I keep thinking about him?! Is Stockholm Syndrome setting in?!" Louis grunted as he yanked his body weight forward. After several tries, exhaustion set in and Louis was forced to take a break. "Stupid sexy men, always getting the best of me. I thought I left this behind in my twenties…"

"You think I'm sexy?"

Louis jumped and let out a yelp. "Dettlaff?! Wha… I thought you'd be out longer!"

"I'm here now. Was there any trouble? I heard you pounding the wall." Dettlaff inquired as he freed Louis.

"Your coat, it's torn…"

"Don't worry about it. Are you okay?"

"Dettlaff, what happened?" Louis stood to meet Dettlaff's eye. "Why were you acting the way you were?"

Dettlaff backed away and sat on his bed. "Someone dear to me was murdered."

"Oh… I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I had to leave you alone." Dettlaff sighed and retrieved an unfinished plushie from under his bed. "I will make you more toys."

"Dettlaff…"

"What kind of toys would you like? A statuette? Something you can roll?"

Louis sat by Dettlaff. "Are you okay?"

"No." Dettlaff choked back a sob. "I even hurt a dear friend of mine."

"Do you wish to talk about it?" Louis, after some hesitation, laid a hand on Dettlaff's back.

"No. But thank you." Dettlaff turned to Louis and smiled. "Being with you… You're already making me feel better." He laid his head on Louis' shoulder and let him pull him into a big, warm hug.

\-----

Fingers combed through Louis' hair, playing with the strands. Louis opened his eyes. The fingers pulled away, and Louis frowned.

"Did I wake you?" Dettlaff murmurred sleepily.

"No, no. Did I fall asleep?" Louis laid his hand on Dettlaff's arm and rubbed small circles with his thumb.

"Yes. I wasn't sure if you'd want to be moved, so I stayed put." After a thought, Dettlaff added, "Good morning."

"Good morning to you, too." Louis made no move to get out of bed, and neither did Dettlaff.

"…Do you want breakfast?"

"Yes. What do you have?"

"I'll need to buy proper breakfast food, but if you don't want me to leave…" Dettlaff suggested as he subtly sniffed Louis.

"It's okay, as long as I can trim my beard, bathe, and, um, do my business." Louis felt his beard, which was growing a bit too long for his liking. He had been considering going to a barber before… well…

Dettlaff raised an eyebrow. "What business?"

"I… um…" Louis blushed and looked away. "You know!"

"No I don't."

Louis sighed. "It means I have to take a piss."

"…Oh. Um," Dettlaff raised his other eyebrow. "There's a chamberpot in the corner. I'll get you stuff to shave. Soap, too."

"Oh, okay." Louis exited the bed, already missing the warmth that had accumulated over the night.

"Allow me to go get them." Dettlaff wriggled out of the covers. Louis noted that Dettlaff had taken off his signature black coat during the night. "Anything in particular you need?"

Louis swore he heard a 'love' at the end, but he decided not to press it. "No, it's fine."

"Do you want me to retrieve food for you?"

"No." It took Louis a minute to realize what Dettlaff was talking about. "You can do that while I'm bathing, I suppose. Wait, do you mean grocery shopping or cooking?"

"Cooking."

"Oh, then I guess you can do that while I clean up. Wait, don't you have muffins?"

"I… shared them with my now-deceased friend. You weren't hungry."

"I'm sorry." Louis hugged Dettlaff.

Dettlaff nuzzled into Louis' shoulder, taking in his addictive, comforting scent. "…Thank you. It means a lot to me."

"Don't mention it."

The two stayed like that for a while, in each other's arms. Louis adjusted his grip to rest his arms, which were growing tired from the hug. Dettlaff gave Louis a soft squeeze, then he broke away from the hug. He hesitated for a second before giving Louis a kiss to the forehead.

"I will be back soon. Tell me when you're done using the champerpot." And with that, Dettlaff took his leave.

Louis sighed wistfully, then he went over to the chamberpot. He did his business, then he beckoned for Dettlaff to come in. Said man came up the stairs armed with a bowl of water, a mirror, and a razor.

"The razor's blunted." Dettlaff remarked as he handed the goods to Louis.

"Ah."

Louis was slightly disappointed with that fact, but he decided he could find something else to use as a weapon anyway. Dettlaff left him alone, presumably to go grocery shopping. Louis took the mirror in one hand, and the razor in the other, and set to work.

\-----

Louis gave up trying to cut anything with the razor and put it down. It was too dull to even be considered for use, and it showed. He wouldn't be surprised if he had been trying to trim his beard for over an hour. Louis threw the razor down and, after some thought, lifted the mirror back up to see his face.

Now that he wasn't focusing on his beard, Louis found that his hair was a bit of a mess. He pushed his hair out of his face and proceeded to fingercomb it. Oh, how he wished for a brush. 

Wait. Dettlaff left him untied. He can simply search for one.

Louis first opened a chest, finding only clothes inside. He groaned and closed the lid, picking his mirror back up. He wandered over to Dettlaff's desk, where a music box laid. If he remembered correctly, Dettlaff put a letter inside, which may have contained sensitive information. Louis knew he shouldn't snoop around, but he threw caution and honor to the wind as he reached over and carefully opened the box with one hand.

Music played out when Louis opened the box more than a crack. He proceded to immediately shut the box and look in the mirror. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found no one else reflected in the mirror. Silly him. Dettlaff isn't going to suddenly appear behind him and berate him for opening the box. Louis re-opened the box, gaining confidence. The box played a sad little tune, one that Louis ignored as he fished out what must have been the letter.

"Don't look at my stuff." Hands came from behind Louis to slam the letter down onto the table.

Louis jumped and pivoted around. Standing behind him was none other than Dettlaff, who appeared out of nowhere to stop him. And he looked pissed. Louis froze in place as Dettlaff stared him down. Dettlaff reached over and put the letter back in the music box.

"I'm… I'm sorry, I was just-" Louis stammered before Dettlaff held up a hand to silence him.

"Don't give me your excuses!" Dettlaff snarled. He caught himself and forced himself to count to ten before speaking. "Why don't you step away from there? I bought some ingredients, maybe you'd want to cook with me?"

"Um." Louis glanced at his mirror, somewhat intimidated by the sudden change. He was about to remark on it when all of a sudden, something seemed off.

Louis took a closer look in the mirror. He tilted it in Dettlaff's direction and frowned. Dettlaff lowered Louis' hand, forcing him to stop looking. He silently urged Louis, who was glancing between him and the mirror, to put it down. Louis had no idea why Dettlaff was so pressy, then it hit him. Dettlaff had no reflection.

Dettlaff was a vampire.

"Oh, Lebioda!" Louis voice trembled with fear as it rose in volume.

"Louis-!"

"No! Stay away from me!" Louis grabbed the nearest stick-like objects, a piece of wood and a knife, and held them together to form a cross. "The power of Lebioda compels you!"

"Louis, please, listen to me!"

"Fuck, why isn't this working?!"

"Louis-"

Louis broke the cross and slashed at Dettlaff with the knife. When Dettlaff easily caught his arm and held it in place, Louis kneed Dettlaff's crotch. He gasped and doubled over. Louis broke out of the hold and pushed Dettlaff away. He ran past him, practically jumping over his incapacitated body to get past.

Louis dashed down the stairs, eager to escape the vampire. He almost fell down the stairs when he heard Dettlaff groan. Louis pushed himself further, getting to the ground floor and stubbing his toe on something. Without even cursing, he sped over to the door and practically yanked the doorknob to the side.

This time, he cursed. Of course Dettlaff kept the door locked! He wasn't a fucking idiot! Louis fumbled with the lock, suddenly finding his fingers to be numb and uncoordinated. He managed to just turn the latch when Dettlaff slammed his hand on the door. Louis automatically turned and socked him in the jaw. When Dettlaff recovered, Louis made the mistake of looking him in the eye.

"Calm." Dettlaff commanded. Immediately, Louis' heart rate fell to a normal rate. "Good. Come on, let's go back upstairs."

\----

Louis shuddered as Dettlaff came near with a plate of scrambled eggs. He turned away and pulled up his legs as Dettlaff scooped some up with a fork. Dettlaff held the fork to Louis as he got on the bed with him.

"You need to eat. You haven't eaten anything since yesterday."

"Are you trying to fatten me up?" Louis attempted to sound brave, but he ended up sounding more like a small puppy that just learned loud noises are scary.

"No. I'm trying to make sure you don't starve." Dettlaff poked Louis' cheek with the tip of the fork. "Come on. They'll get cold."

Louis knocked the fork out of Dettlaff's hand, sending it flying across the floor. Dettlaff snarled quietly, but retrieved the fork and wiped it off on his coat. He went back to Louis, but did not try to feed him again. They sat together, awkwardly on Dettlaff's part and fearfully on Louis', when Dettlaff decided to just fuck it and eat the eggs himself.

"Are you keeping me here so you can… drink me?"

Dettlaff nearly choked on his eggs. He swallowed so he could respond. "If you're referring to your blood, no. You're my…" Dettlaff stopped himself in the middle of his sentence. "I don't need blood to live." At Louis' expression, he commented, "You look surprised."

"You're a vampire, you…" Louis huffed. "You're a motherfucking asshole."

Dettlaff snapped. He broke the plate and threw it to the side, along with the fork. His claws grew to full size in a single moment, and his face transformed into something monstrous. Before Louis could even process it, Dettlaff pinned him to the wall, squeezing his throat tight enough to hurt and holding his claws to his belly.

"After all I've done for you, you repay me by insulting me?!" Dettlaff growled. "I saved your fucking life! I could have killed you, but I decided to protect you!"

Louis' vision began to grow dark as circulation to his brain was cut off. Stars danced before his eyes as he tugged on Dettlaff's hard, desperately wishing for nothing more than some air. "Dett…"

Dettlaff blinked and took his hands away. Louis slumped over, gasping for breath. He felt too weak to even massage his throat where it hurt. Unknown to him, Dettlaff sheathed his claws and gently hugged Louis, giving him backrubs and helping him support himself. Louis began sobbing uncontrollably into the crook of his neck.

"You're so…" Louis' voice gave out. He cried for several long minutes before daring to speak up again. "I hate you so much…"

\-----

"What happened after that?" Regis pressed further.

"After I felt better, he tied me up once again and, well, he just left. He said he had to take a walk, so I figured he was going to be away for a while and I began attempting to break free again. Some time later, you two arrived."

"Hm. Anything else of note?" Geralt went over to the desk.

"Other than him having another visitor, nothing else. Though I don't think they really knew each other, if how they spoke was any indication. Anyway," Louis got up and dusted himself off. "If there's nothing else, I would like to head home now."

"Wait." Regis stopped him. "Higher vampires are excellent trackers. If you try to go alone, he will likely find you and bring you back."

"Higher? Vampire?"

Regis realized in that moment he done fucked up. "We consulted an expert on vampires, and they told us that was the type of vampire he is."

"Oh no, there's multiple types?" Louis dragged his hands down his face.

"Yep. Don't think you wanna know how many." Geralt spoke up. "Regis, I found the music box."

"Thank you, Geralt. Now, let us see what is inside." Regis stood by Geralt and reached over to open the box.


	23. Chapter 23

"Oh dear, it's locked." Regis remarked as an invisible mechanism held the box tight.

"Of course he locked it!" Louis threw his arms up.

"Can you pick the lock?" Geralt asked Regis. "You know, with your…" Geralt mimed the motions that vaguely signified a vampire husband turning into mist, entering the lock, and picking it from the inside.

"No, I'm afraid I don't have that much control over… Anway, do you have a knife on you?"

Geralt wordlessly handed Regis his hunting knife. Regis held the box to eye level and brought the knife to it. He jammed the tip of the knife into the keyhole, frowning when it didn't go in all the way. He fiddled the knife around, wriggling it in an attempt to force it in the lock.

"Doesn't work as well as in the books, huh?" Geralt smirked and held out his hand.

"And you know how to pick locks?" Regis blushed and gave the knife back.

"This one. Watch." Geralt took the music box and threw it against the wall. It shattered on impact, scattering wood and paper everywhere.

"…Did you really have to destroy a perfectly good music box?"

"Maybe not, but it was fun." Geralt went over to where the music box broke and picked up the papers.

"If it's Dettlaff's stuff, feel free to break it!" Louis piped up. He joined Geralt, followed by an exasperated Regis. "Lebioda knows I won't miss any of it."

Regis wisely chose not to respond. He took the oldest letter from Geralt and began to read. "Oh, dear…"

"What?" Louis leaned over to look.

"Dettlaff - he's being blackmailed."

"What?!" Louis yanked the letter out of Regis' hands. He speedread through it, face falling as he went. "Oh no… please don't tell me…"

Geralt shuffled through some cards. "You were gonna be a victim."

"Oh no…" Louis put the letter on the desk and covered his mouth with his hand. "This explains so much…"

"Let me read that…" Geralt leaned over and read the letter. "Huh. Letter mentions a Rhenawedd. Regis, you know who she is?"

"She is his one-time lover. The sole human woman with whom he was very close."

"So… this Rhenawedd… was she… with Dettlaff? Romantically?" Louis asked without looking at Regis.

"Yes, once. I'm afraid I do not know if she was involved with him at the time of her kidnapping, as I was travelling." Regis placed a comforting hand on Louis' shoulder. "I know what you're thinking. I'm sure Dettlaff truly holds feelings for you. You are not 'the other person,' as some would say."

"Easy for you to say…" Louis mumbled. "I just want to go home, curl up into a ball, and…" Louis' bottom lip quivered, and he blinked away tears.

"I know, I know. Soon, you shall depart with Geralt, and he shall take you home."

"You're not coming with?" Geralt looked at Regis.

"No. I shall stay here and wait for Dettlaff. I wish to convince him to stay his hand, that you are a friend."

"And if he finds me and attacks me…?"

"He wouldn't." Regis said with great certainty. "Louis will be with you, and likely Milly for that matter. He wouldn't dare attempt to kill someone in front of people he knows, trust me."

"…Who's Milly?"

"Oh, apologies, I keep getting confused on who knows who. It's part of my autism. She is someone who met Dettlaff, and who may have befriended him. She didn't tell me whether or not she did."

"Oh, okay then." Louis nodded. "Can I go home now?"

"We have to take you to the duchess, report to her first, then I'll take you straight home." Geralt gathered all the papers he could find.

"I want to go home now! My family's likely worried sick about me!"

"Louis-"

"I refuse to go anywhere else until I see them! I've been locked up in here for days, and I've had two near-death experiences! And if you don't help me get back home, then I'll go alone, Dettlaff be damned!"

"Louis!" Regis fumbled for a change in topic. "What was drawn on that wall over there?"

"…What?" Louis looked to the wall, then back to Regis. "What are you talking about?"

"There used to be a charcoal drawing here, " Regis went up to the wall and tapped where residual charcoal remained. "But it seems to have been washed off. Do you know what was here?"

"No." Louis shook his head. "How are you even able to tell there's anything there?"

"I am very observant." Regis lied. "In any case, you should go with Geralt to see her Grace. You were declared… dead."

"My family-"

"I know, I know. How about you send for a messenger once you arrive at the palace and summon your family there? Geralt will be able to report to her Grace, change your legal status back to being alive, and you can see your family. It's a win-win scenario."

"Mm," Louis considered for a bit. "Okay. But I want to see my family as soon as possible! I have a mother and two sisters!"

"Don't worry, we'll do that." Geralt patted Louis on the arm. "Let's get going."

"Yes, let's. I fear Dettlaff may be approaching." Louis got up and went over to the stairs.

"Farewell, Geralt." Regis kept his hands gripped firmly on the strap of his purse in order to resist the urge to hug Geralt again. "If you need me, I shall be at the rendezvous."

"Bye." Geralt stepped forward and embraced Regis in a big old bear hug. "And please, don't get hurt again."

"I… I will try not to." Regis reciprocated the hug, subtly taking in Geralt's wonderful scent. "Thank you."

"Good." Geralt hesitantly let go, sliding his hands along Regis' arms as they separated. Fingertips brushed against fingertips for a few short seconds before being pulled away, both owners of said fingers fearful of how the other would react. Geralt turned around and joined Louis at the stairs, glancing over his shoulder before exiting the room.

When they outright left the building, Geralt and Louis found a panicking girl next to a horse. What was strange about this situation was that the horse was floating in midair, upside-down and standing on nothing, as though it was completely normal for horses to defy gravity.

"Uh, I didn't do it!" Milly shouted as she subtly hid the magical residue on her hands. However, it was an idiotic action that made her look even more suspicious. Magical residue is invisible to the naked eye.

"I believe you…" Geralt grumbled. "You know what? We're walking. Milly, come on."

"Okay." Milly shrugged and began to follow Geralt through Beauclair.

After some time walking, Louis spoke up. "Aren't you that girl Dettlaff brought over?"

"No." Milly lied.

"Huh, that's strange. I remember that girl looking just like you. Do you have any twins?" Louis sarcastically replied.

"Ugh, fine, so I was at Dettlaff's. So?"

"I was there, remember?"

"Uhhhhh…" Milly drew a blank on Louis.

"I don't blame you for being unable to remember. You seemed pretty shaken up."

"No I wasn't." Milly lied again. She then remembered Dettlaff's boyfriend sitting beside her. That must've been Louis. "Oh yeah! You must be dating Dettlaff!

Louis clenched his jaw. "Our relationship is… well, it's complicated." Louis quickly changed the topic, eager to move on. "Anyway, there's no shame in crying. You were upset, and your body was simply trying to stabilize your emotions." Louis sympathetically told her.

"I. Wasn't. Crying."

"If you say so…" Louis paused for a few seconds before going 'oh!' "I wanted to ask you something: did you notice anything… suspicious? Strange? Anything Dettlaff had an aversion to?"

"You tell me, you clearly know him better than I do."

"So you thought I was just at Dettlaff's house under normal circumstances, then?" Louis interrogated, voice calm, and yet containing anger within.

"Uh, no? Why do you sound like you're accusing me?"

"Hm. No reason." Louis bit with passive-aggression. "I just thought that, you know, since you're his friend you'd find something off."

"I didn't even know his name until Regis told me!" Milly barked back. "…Where is he, by the way?"

"He's staying behind." Geralt grumbled, hoping he wouldn't have to play babysitter.

"Thanks. At least you're not hiding things. Unlike someone here…" Milly mumbled the last bit under her breath.

"Maybe if you were using your eyes, you would have seen it!" Louis argued, forgoing social ettiquette.

"Seen what? Just tell me what you mean!"

"Knock it off!" Geralt put a hand between the two. "We're here."

"Uh, I thought you were taking me home." Milly gazed up at the palace, feeling small and insignificant. She had never been inside before.

"Need to do some things first, then we can go home." Geralt reassured her. "Namely, I need to see the duchess, report to her and all that."

"You know the duchess?" Milly questioned, deliberately keeping her voice casual. On the inside, she was screaming in fear.

"Not exactly… I'm supposed to investigate something."

"…Dettlaff's got something to do with it, doesn't he?" Milly ventured.

"Yep." Geralt didn't bother to lie.

"Are you looking for the Beast?"

"Yep."

"Is Dettlaff in danger?"

"What? No, no." Geralt denied.

Milly stopped dead in her tracks. "Regis told me he was."

"What do you mean?" This time, Louis was the one unsure of the other's intentions.

Milly ignored Louis. "Regis said Dettlaff's in danger, you said he's not. Why the discrepancy?"

"Uh," Geralt scratched his head. "Cuz Dettlaff isn't in immediate danger."

"He will be when I get my hands on him…" Louis muttered under his breath.

"Are you sure?" Milly pressed on.

"Yep. Come on, I haven't got all day." Geralt gestured for Milly to continue following him. With a sigh, Milly stepped through the gates and joined up with the rest of the group.

\-----

"Geralt of Rivia, plus two…" The royal announcer guy trailed off once he saw Louis. "It cannot be…"

"Witcher, I was not mistaken." Damian turned from the view. "You arrived, and trouble… followed…" Damian took a few steps forward. "Louis, is that you?"

Louis cringed. "Yes. I do not wish for a confron-"

Louis found himself pulled into a hug by Anna and Damian. He froze for a moment before embracing them. Damian let go first, followed by Anna. They both stared at Louis with a pregnant silence until one of them spoke up.

"We were told you were dead…" Anna broke the silence.

"Yes, we had been told you died…" Damian shot a suspicious glance at Geralt.

"Body belonged a lookalike. Louis had been kidnapped and switched out for someone else."

"Regardless, I am glad he is still with us." Anna gladly commented. She tilted her head to the side, just noticing the bowing girl behind Geralt. "Who is she?"

"Her name's Milly. She's got information on the Beast." Geralt answered.

"I… I do?"


	24. Chapter 24

"Go. I'll distract him." Milly pushed herself off her support and waved him off.

"But-"

"Go!"

Behind her, Milly could feel a rustling breeze. Milly paid it no mind, instead limping over to Regis, using a tree branch to support her. She almost tripped over the cobblestone, steadying herself at the last minute by jamming her improvised walking stick into the ground. Milly took a deep breath and approached Regis at last, blocking him from taking a step further on the empty streets.

"You lied to me." Milly accused with an icy tone, accompanied with a glare rivalling in cold.

"Milly, I assure you, I-"

"You lied to me!" Milly repeated, fire seeping into her flesh and voice. "You don't care about Dettlaff at all!"

Regis mentally swore. "I didn't lie to you about being his friend. He-"

"Don't give me that bullshit! You want Dettlaff to be locked up and executed, don't you?!" Milly grew flush with rage. It didn't even hurt when she accidentally put weight on her injured leg.

"No! In fact, that's what I'm trying to help him avoid!" Regis attempted to walk around Milly, but she predicted his every move and blocked it. "Milly, please! I need to find him!"

"And what? Have him flayed until the skin on his back has been completely torn off? Or would you choke the life out of him?! Stab and beat him until he stops moving?!"

"Please, listen to me! Dettlaff's in danger!"

"Obviously!"

"That's not all! His lover has been taken hostage. And whoever was in charge of blackmailing him is highly dangerous, someone with great power and cunning."

"Okay, I'll bite." Milly took a deep breath, preparing to cast a spell behind her back. "Who exactly is this someone?"

"I do not know." Regis answered honestly. "But Geralt is working on that. In the meantime, I wish to see Dettlaff, convince him to stay his hand. If you have seen-"

"On what?" Milly interrupted, extremely suspicious of Regis. She finished drawing the Force into her hands, which now shook from the power.

"Doing what the blackmailer wishes him to do."

"And that is…?" Milly began signing.

"A horrible crime, one which I know eats at Dettlaff."

"What is this 'crime?'" Milly brought her arms to her front, casting a spell on Regis. "And tell the truth."

Regis blinked several times in a row. "Did you just try to hypnotize me?!"

Milly mentally cursed. "No."

"So the scent of ozone that suddenly filled the air was not related to you making signs that closely resemble the Sign for axii?" Regis stared at Milly for a good five seconds, then he shook his head and chuckled. "At least try to do it when you have me unawares."

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…"

"In any case, you are better off not knowing what Dettlaff is doing. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to catch up with him. I fear he may have… I need to find him." Regis took a few steps back, beginning to turn around.

Milly caught Regis' arm before he could run away. "And why am I better off not knowing?"

"…Let go of me."

"Not until you answer the question." Milly checked her magic. Her cooldown period was going down quicker than usual. She decided not to question why.

"Milly," Regis turned to look Milly dead in the eye. "Let. Go. I do not wish for this to get ugly."

"Neither do I." Milly stared right back at Regis. "But I will defend myself if need be."

Regis carefully hid his shock beneath a poker face. No matter how much he focused on hypnotizing Milly, she simply wasn't affected. He had encountered a few humans over the course of his long lifetime who could shake off hypnosis mere minutes after being mesmerized, but never one who outright resisted it. Until now, that is. And Milly had him caught in a death grip, in human standards. He couldn't break free without hurting Milly or revealing his vampiric nature.

"You gonna tell me or what?" Milly sponged up as much Force as she could, repressing a scathing remark.

"No." Regis yanked his arm in a weak attempt to escape.

"Then…" Milly took a deep breath and created a shower of harmless sparks with one hand. They flew everywhere, barely even touching Regis. "Go home. Don't try to…" Milly ignored her body's needs and forced herself to breathe normally. "Don't try to search for Dettlaff."

Regis was rooted to the spot. The sparks danced across his vision and kissed his clothes, but to Regis, they held the power of a volcano. A shiver shot down his spine as he realized just how much trouble he is. He quaked as he saw the look on Milly's face.

"Go home." Milly repeated, voice becoming low and dangerous.

Regis would have obeyed her, if only because of the small sparks she produced. He would have given up the search for Dettlaff all together… if it weren't for someone drop-kicking Milly without warning. She was forced to let go of Regis' arm as she fell to the ground, too shocked to say anything, and too weak to do anything.

"Regis! What are you doing? Just get out of here!" The someone, a boy with white hair, yelled after he recovered from the kick.

Milly crawled out from under the boy, exhaustion and pain setting in. She didn't even notice when Regis turned to mist and fucked off. She weakly kicked behind her with her good leg and barely brushed her foot against the boy. The boy simply watched her, then he shook his head.

"Fire magic's not your forte, is it?"

"Nope." Milly panted as she searched for a wisp of Force in the area, any Force. But it was drained clean.

"Hm." The boy grunted. He drew his sword and held it to Milly's neck. "You wanted to kill Regis? I'd say good luck with that, but you'll not get the chance."

"What? No, no." Milly would have shaken her head if she weren't so bone-dead tired. "Was tryna… scarw him…"

"Uh huh, sure thing. And I'm the Emperor of Nilfgaard." The boy said. "Let's say I believe you. Why were you trying to scare him?"

"Cuz he wants to… hurt someone…" Milly eyed the sword warily, attempting to think of a way out of the situation.

"What makes you think that hurting him will stop him from hurting other? That's how like… half the serial killers are made." The boy's voice rose as he sneered. "Ugh. Do you have any idea who he even is?!"

"Uh, I guess? All I know is his name's Regis and he's super thirsty for this guy…" Milly searched for a way to stall. "You, uh, you clearly know a lot more about him than me, why don't you tell me about him?"

"He's not just Regis, he's THE Regis, from Dandelion's ballads. He-"

"Wait, who's Dandelion?"

The boy sighed and facepalmed. "He's a bard. Anyway, Regis is one of the kindest men in the world. He's loyal as all hell. Why would you want to hurt someone like that?"

Milly looked at the boy funny. "I told you. He wants to hurt someone."

"Riiiight…" The boy returned Milly's funny gaze. "Now, where was I…? Oh yeah!" The boy suddenly remembered the previous subject and shifted to get a better angle at Milly's throat. "You were gonna kill him."

"No, I-"

"I can hear your heart pounding like a liar. It's not gonna get past me, sweetheart." The boy pressed his sword into Milly's throat, drawing droplets of blood. Milly froze. "There's something off about you… You have no empathy or kindness whatsoever. I can tell. No matter how hard I try, I can'r empathize with yoy You know what that means?" At Milly's silence, the boy continued. "You aren't capable of understanding what I'm trying to tell you. No good can come from this. No good can come from you."

"I… I don't see what that has to do with…" Milly clamped her mouth shut, deciding she would be better off not finishing the sentence. No need to confirm she was hypoempathetic, after all.

"So you won't deny it, then?" The boy gave Milly a look that, despite her own autism, she could tell it meant she was truly and utterly screwed. Unless she acted now.

Milly pushed the sword away, disregarding the cut inflicted on herself. She rolled away as fast as she could, getting onto her knees when she determined she was far enough from the shocked boy to avoid being killed immediately. It was then she realized she had dropped her walking stick. Cursing, she stood up anyway, mentally berating herself for leaving it behind.

The boy cracked his neck and charged at Milly, brandishing his sword in one hand. Milly squeaked and ducked when he swung it at her. The boy used the momentum of his swing to bring his sword up to hack downwards. He slashed Milly as she dodged again, slicing through her thigh in a long, shallow cut around the side.

Milly cried out in pain as her good leg was hurt. She had no time to gauge the severity of the injury, for the boy was relentless. He attacked with ferocious speed, leaving no pattern to follow or even a little room for error in dodging. Milly understood all at once that this wasn't an ordinary fight. This was a battle for the privelege to survive, one she was already losing.


	25. Chapter 25

Milly hopped backwards on one leg as she avoided the cold, hard steel of the sword. Every movement, every vibration, even every breath she took hurt. Her entire body hurt, and she hasn't even been fighting for twenty minutes. The boy was unrelenting, and seemingly untouchable. He was a killing machine, and Milly was his target.

Milly stumbled over a loose stone and fell to the ground, hard. Only the reflex to roll backwards kept the boy from plunging his sword into her chest. Once she did, Milly cried out as her broken leg was aggravated. That definitely wouldn't be healing any time soon.

Milly whimpered as she adjusted her weight off her leg onto her hands and knees. The boy was just looking at her, with his head tilted to the side. He took a few steps towards Milly before turning into fog and surrounding her, attempting to manhandle her into a chokehold.

"Oh come on!" Milly swatted the fog ineffectively, rolling to the side after a short delay.

The fog stubbornly stuck to Milly, even the clouds Milly managed to shake off rejoined the rest of its body. However, it couldn't hurt her as much, being too preoccupied with sticking to her to really do anything. Milly caught on and intensified her efforts. More and more puffs broke off from her, struggling to keep up with the pure desperation. At last, Milly broke free, forcing the fog to reform into the shape of a boy.

Milly stopped once she felt something long under her back. Sparing a glance, she found her branch, laying there where she accidentally discarded it. Milly picked it up and held it like a sword, pointing it towards the boy, or at least what looked like a boy.

The boy charged at Milly, intending to spear her like a shish kebab. Milly sidestepped him at the last second, making him stumble. She took the opportunity to raise the stick behind her head and whack the boy with all her strength. It ended up just being a lovetap.

The boy recovered and pirouetted, nearly slicing clean through Milly's improvised weapon. When he hacked a second time, intending to strike downwards into Milly's head, she grabbed the other end of her stick and blocked the attack. The boy tried to yank his sword out, but to no avail. It was well and truly stuck.

"What the fuck?!" Both shouted at once, for different reasons. Milly saw magic flaring across the branch, coming to snake itself around the boy's sword.

Milly took a deep breath and yanked her branch to the side, taking the sword with it and knocking its owner off-balance. Magic swirled itself around her hands, creating a dark aura in spite of her not doing anything. Milly chanced letting go with one hand to punch the boy. Hard.

Milly felt more than heard the satisfying crack as her fist connected with ribs. The boy reeled back, abandoning his sword in shock. Milly threw away the branch and took a few steps back. Her entire body was covered in this strange, unknown magic, which had clearly not been summoned by her. She spent so long staring at it that by the time she looked up, the boy had gotten way further back.

"Loncho a ugear!" The boy shouted.

Milly only had just enough time to realize what he was doing before the ground beneath her blew up. She went flying into a brick wall and landed face down on the ground with an ungraceful thud. Milly could only guess how many bones were broken as she attempted to prop herself up. The magic surrounding her was gone, replaced by blood and pain.

Milly could vaguely recognize the boy walking towards her before a deep, sharp pain stabbed her through the chest, drawing spurts of blood. Her vision faded, and she fell.

\-----

Helena strutted down the street in her new shoes, feeling powerful in the clicks her stride produced. She checked her purse, making sure she had plenty, before continuing. A generous couple was to thank for her money, for she had waited their table not too long ago and received what she estimated to be a three-hundred percent tip. Lena had doubted they meant to give her that much, until she saw that the tip written on the bill was the same amount as the actual money.

"Should be able to buy me lodgings for a week…" Lena muttered as she thought about her job and housing situation. Despite her showing her boss the bill, he had insisted that she had stolen money from a customer and fired her immediately. And her landlord would not allow her to stay in her apartment for long, due to a policy that anyone unemployed could not rent from him. "Buncha assholes, they are…"

It took Lena longer than it should have to realize that the streets were quieter than usual. By the time she did, a silent crowd of people were circled around an unknown object came into view. Lena furrowed her eyebrows and pushed her way through the sea of people until she saw what they saw. A girl was lying face-down in the street, practically drowning in a puddle of her own blood.

Lena squeaked in shock. Those around her stood still as she processed the situation. She looked around, desperate for someone, anyone, to step forward and help, but no one did. Lena was falling victim to the bystander effect, just like the crowd.

"Won't someone do something?!" Lena shouted uselessly, knowing fully well no one would. She looked at the girl again, watching the light reflect off the blood, and forced herself to step forward.

Lena rolled the poor girl onto her back and picked her up princess style. She was stiff as a board, but that didn't hinder Lena from carting her effortlessly. Her great strength allowed her to compensate for how uncooperative the girl's body was. Once Lena reached the crowd once again, she stopped. No one was moving out of the way.

"I need to get through."

No response.

"Please." A pause. "Don't make me hurt someone."

Again, no response. Lena sighed and shoved her way through the crowd, mindful of the delicate girl in her arms. She paid no attention to the fact that no one even blinked in reaction to her as she reached the outside, sprinting into an alley as soon as she was able.

Lena laid Milly down, taking off her coat and stuffing it under the girk's head. She checked her pulse, relieved to find that, although it was slow and sluggish, the girl still had one. Lena then checked her wounds and frowned. Clearly, someone had gone through great efforts to kill her. Several stab wounds marked the girl's body, most prominently where her heart is. Her leg had been badly broken, and it was twisted the wrong way. She was covered in bruises and cuts, a few of both about the size of her head.

"What the fuck happened to you…?" Lena thought aloud as she checked the ribs. They, like the leg, were broken as well. "Shit. How are you even alive?"

Lena finished her examination and pulled her hands back. She mopped up the magic flowing through her body and concentrated it into a ball of healing magic inside her. Lena pushed the ball into her lips and kissed the girl on the forehead, distributing it into her. Lena focused on the effects she wanted as she kept her lips in place. Bones cracked with a sickening sound, shifting themselves into the correct position as the open wounds sucked air and knit themselves back together. Her bruises changed into a rainbow of colors, before disappearing altogether.

The girl began coughing up a storm. Lena gave the last of her magic to her, then helped the girl into a sitting position. She thumped her back until blood practically poured out of her mouth, and she could breathe again.

"How do you feel?" Lena asked.

"Huff… wha…?"

"You might be disoriented. That's from my magic. When I found you, you looked to be at death's door, so I took you aside and healed you." Lena explained, giving the girl a calming smile. "Do you still hurt?"

"No." The girl replied curtly.

"Good, good." Lena checked behind her for eavesdroppers, then lifted the girl up again, easier now that her joints would actually bend. "What's your name?"

"Milly…" The girl muttered.

"That's a lovely name." Lena flashed a beautiful smile at Milly, who was clearly taken aback. "I'm Helena. But you can call me Lena."

"I… uh…" Milly was at a loss for words.

"Helena. H-E-L-E-N-A. Helena." Lena began walking out of the alley.

"Uh, yes. Helena. I'll try to remember." Milly cleared her throat, hoping Lena couldn't see her blush.

"So, what happened?" Lena briskly headed off.

Milly sighed. "It's a long story…"


	26. Chapter 26

"Thank you. Will that be all?"

"Yes." Lena answered as she gave her coinpurse to the lady behind the counter, who dumped and counted out the money.

"Here's your room key." The lady smiled as she gave Lena her key and coinpurse. "Upstairs, at the end of the hall, to your right."

"Thanks."

Lena walked back to where Milly was sitting. She was sitting in an uncomfortable chair, leaning her head back against the wall with her foot propped up on the wooden seat. Lena picked her up again, this time with Milly wrapping her arms and legs around her, and carried her off to the inn room.

"'Ey, 'ow long did you pay for?" Milly mumbled.

"A week. Should be enough time for you to recover. Healing magic is draining for all parties involved, after all." Lena said as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Lena laid Milly down on the bed and pulled up a chair beside her. Milly shifted around uncomfortably, the sheets being sensory hell for her. Lena gave her knee a comforting rub.

"So, how did you end up like…?"

"Um," Milly mumbled. "Basically, people are after me."

"Which people?" Lena inquired.

 _Probably every single knight in Toussaint._ "The kind of people you don't want after you."

"Mind being more specific?"

"…Why do you wanna know?" Milly verbally bristled up.

"I want to help you. Simple as that." Lena honestly answered.

"O…kay." Milly just stared at Lena.

"Look, lodgings in city aren't cheap. I could have healed you and just left you in the…" Lena cut herself off. "I'm sorry, I'm getting rather defensive for no reason."

"'Kay."

"So, uh, since you don't wanna tell me about who's pursuing you, why don't you tell me why they're after you." Lena gave Milly a small smile.

"…Let's just say I was tricked."

"What happened?"

 _Bitchasses lied to me and tried to blackmail me._ "They said they wanted to help a friend of mine, so I told them where he lived, and… They didn't really care about him."

"Go on…"

"One of them took me somewhere, and when we got there I learned they actually wanted to kill my friend. So I…" _Punched five people including Geralt and Her Grace and then jumped off the balcony of the castle._ "Ran away, and fell and broke my leg."

"But that's not the whole story." Lena ventured.

"No, it isn't. I limped back into town, and what do you know, I found my friend. So I told him what happened and he started taking me to his… safehouse, I guess, but…" _Regis' bitchass came along, so I distracted him while Dettlaff escaped._ "We got separated. And if all that wasn't bad enough, some kid tried to kill me. He royally fucked me up, and, uh, I guess that's where the story ends."

"Was he sent by-?"

"No, I don't think so. From what he said, he was acting alone."

"Can you describe him for me?" Lena leaned forward.

"He had white hair, yellow cat eyes, two swords, and he could turn into fog."

"…Geralt of Rivia?" Lena furrowed her eyebrows.

"No. That kid's clearly younger than me."

"Well, from what you said, he sounds like some kind of witcher." Lena shrugged. "Never heard of one that could turn to mist, though."

"Yeah, never heard of 'em either. Dunno a whole lot about them, really. Only know they kick ass."

"Did you see his medallion, by any chance?"

"…What?"

"He should be wearing a medallion if he's a witcher. They're the source of their magic powers, or so I've been told." Lena informed Milly.

"No. Don't think he was even wearing one."

"Damn." Lena sighed. "I'll keep an eye out for him, okay? I'll even help you evade whoever's-"

"No, no." Milly held up a hand to get Lena to stop. "You'll be better off not doing anything. It's…" Milly sighed. "It's a mess."

"But-"

"No! Just…" Milly couldn't look at Lena anymore. "Just go. For your own sake, just go."

"If that's what you want…" Lena stood up and casted a sleeping spell on Milly. "Rest. And may you forget me, for your peace of mind."

Milly was about to argue, but an intense wave of fatigue washed over her. Her eyelids closed before she knew what was happening, and she fell into deep sleep.

"Goodnight, and good luck." Lena wished Milly, before kissing her forehead once again and leaving. She decided to search for a job immediately, seeing as she was almost broke now, and her shoes wouldn't stay shiny forever.

\-----

"Yes, uh, I think Dettlaff hid something in there…" Louis pointed to a random chest, which a guard promptly smashed open. "Do you see anything?"

"No, just fabric."

"Ah well. At least we spat in his face." Louis shrugged.

"How is your family, by the way?" The guard asked.

"They were absolutely delighted to see me. They thought me to be dead!" Louis remarked as he idly toyed with the top Dettlaff gave him.

Meanwhile, Cas stood on the rooftop, using his enhanced senses to eavesdrop on everything that was going on. His blood boiled as he heard the knights going absolutely berserk, but he couldn't do much. Despite all the time that had passed, his ribs still wouldn't heal, and his magic still wouldn't return to him. He couldn't do anything a human can't, and that royally pissed him off.

"At least she's dead…" Cas mumbled. He wasn't stupid enough to try and stop the guards in his sorry state. He consoled himself with the fact that he stopped someone from hurting his hero.

"What are you doing?"

"EEK!" Cas nearly fell off the roof. He was caught by a clawed hand.

"Goodness, are you alright?!" The voice asked as he pulled Cas up.

Cas grunted as he helped pull himself up and into a sitting position. "Yeah, yeah, I'm…" Cas trailed off as he realized who exactly was standing before him: Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy. "AAAAAAAAA OH MY GOD IT'S YOU YOU'RE MY HERO AAAAAAAAA!!!!!"

Regis winced at the sudden screaming. "Child, please."

Cas cleared his throat. "Uh, I mean, yeah. You're, uh, I've heard of you." Cas puffed out his chest. "You're in Dandelion's ballads."

"I didn't even know they still played them here…" Regis thought aloud.

"Not from 'ere. I'm from…" Cas paused. "Eh, you've probably never heard of it."

"You may be surprised." Regis took a seat next to Cas. "I have been, well, everywhere, to make use of a hyperbole."

Cas mulled that statement over, then he decided to answer the question. "Australia."

"…Isn't that a fictional location?"

"Long story. Basically when I reincarnated, I went into the wrong universe." Cas smirked. "Not that I'm complaining."

"That… sounds fascinating. But what are you doing in this particular location? And why are you on the roof of all places?"

"What're you doing here?" Cas asked back.

"I am looking for my friend. He's-"

"He's gonna hide in a cave just outside the city."

Regis was taken aback. "…What?"

"Dettlaff's gonna go into hiding in a cave he found."

"…Firstly, how do you know who I'm talking about? Second, how do you know this?"

Cas smirked and tapped the side of his head. "Magic."

"It's impossible. Dettlaff-"

"Higher vampire, yeah, yeah." Cas shrugged.

"…I have… so many questions." Regis stared at Cas, utterly lost.

Cas changed the subject. "You hurt?"

"What? Oh, no, I'm unhurt."

"Good." Cas nodded and smiled. "Girl threatening to kill you shouldn't bother you anymore."

"…She wasn't threatening to kill me."

"She wanted to melt you alive. I could tell."

"Milly was quite mad at me but I don't think-"

"She was evil, of course she would have."

Regis paused. "I think you may have misunderstood the situation."

"Oh?"

"She was angry because, well, she had a misunderstanding. She was under the impression I wished to kill Dettlaff because I misled her. I was trying to locate his home, which we are now on, and I made her believe he was to be a victim of the Beast."

"But he is the Beast." Cas looked for confirmation.

Regis sighed. "Yes, yes he is. Apparently Milly found out, and she…" Regis' eyes grew wide.

"What?"

"She was trying to protect Dettlaff!" Regis suddenly stood up. "Of course! Why didn't I see this earlier?! She had his scent on her! She must have been stalling me!"

"What?!" Cas stood with Regis, ignoring his ribs' protest at the motion.

"Where did you last see her? Did she change locations since I last saw her?!"

"Uh…"

"Come, we must find her!" Regis picked up a shocked and slightly frightened Cas and carried him off the rooftop into the street. "Where did you last see her?" He repeated, placing emphasis on every syllable.

When Cas looked into Regis' eyes, he found he couldn't bring himself to lie. "Same place."

"Same place?" Regis echoed. He realized what Cas meant. "Oh! …Could you point me in that direction?"

Cas literally pointed, and Regis bolted off in that direction.


	27. Chapter 27

"What happened here?" Regis exclaimed in disbelief as he held a handkerchief to his nose. "This place reeks of decay…"

Cas looked at the people, who looked more like zombies than humans, then looked back to Regis. "I don't know, we… No one… There wasn't…" He panicked slightly as he realized Milly's body was gone.

"I'm not blaming you for this, don't you worry." Regis broke off from Cas and crouched down besides an unconscious human, taking their vitals. "This one will live, at least I hope so. Their vitals are normal, even though they're a little cold." Regis stood up. "I just realized I never even asked your name."

"It's Cas."

"Cas, could you help me triage these people? Check their vitals. If they're not breathing, and they don't have a pulse, mark them with an X on their forehead." Regis gave Cas a dark, smelly ointment.

Cas nodded. "I'll take the ones on the right, you on the left?"

"Yes."

\-----

"Regis?"

"Hm?"

"Is everyone alive on your end?" Cas asked.

"Yes, why?" Regis approached Cas. "Is everyone you checked alive?"

"What?"

"Is-"

"Yeah. It's… it's… They look dead, but…"

"Just what in the world happened to these people?" Regis rhetorically asked again.

"Will they…?"

"I think they will live. We need to get them to a hospital, though." After a thought, Regis added, "And you, too. I noticed you trying to hide your injury."

"What injury?"

"Your ribs. They're clearly injured." Regis stated plainly. "Now, I respect your right to privacy, but you really should get them treated. At the very least, tell me if you've performed first aid on them."

"Don't need to. At least, I shouldn't need to." Cas shrugged. "I've got super fast regeneration."

"Mm-hm, superior regeneration, that explains why you wince every time you bend over." Regis sassed.

"Honest! I don't know why they're not healing!"

"Alright, alright." Regis held up his hands placatingly. "I believe you. But if they're not healing, I recommend that you accompany me to the hospital."

"But…" Cas sighed. "Okay…"

"Great! Allow me to just…" Regis slung multiple people over his shoulders. "There. Let us head off, now."

\-----

Regis sat on Cas' bed, now that the last of the patients had been transported. Cas was reclining back, book in hand, and ribs bandaged. When he saw Regis, he immediately put the book down and sat up, slightly startling the person in bed next to him.

"How are your ribs?" Regis asked, sitting down on the bed.

"Still aren't healing." Cas grumbled.

"That's a shame." Regis said sympathetically. "I hope they do soon."

"Thanks." Cas muttered.

"I think you will be happy to know that all of those people we brought in will live. Their initial prognoses are quite positive, though most have a case of retrograde amnesia regarding what happened to them."

"Thank fuck for that."

"Thank fuck, indeed." Regis mimed in agreement. "So, Cas…"

"What?"

"Do you have any clue what happened to these people?" Regis laid a hand on Cas' knee. "If you know anything, please tell me. I do not wish for this to happen again, and especially not for it to be worse."

"Nope." Cas denied.

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah."

"That's a shame." Regis sighed. "What about Milly?"

"Whaaaat about her?"

"What happened to her? She was not among the people we found, so I assume she left at some point." Regis pointed out.

"Uh… I chased her off." Cas lied, staring at the wall and scratching the back of his head. "She was, uh, she wanted to kill you, so I scared her off."

"And where did she go?"

"Dunno."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah." Cas wasn't lying. He really didn't know where Milly's body had gone.

Regis opened his mouth, then closed it. He thought carefully about his words. "Did you at least see which direction Milly went?"

"No." Cas couldn't meet Regis' gaze.

Regis just looked at Cas. "Something happened, didn't it?"

"No…"

"Well…" Regis pat Cas' leg. "I shall go look for Milly now. I will be back later to check on you. If you wish to talk then, I will be happy to do so."

"'Kay. Bye." Cas almost whimpered.

"Goodbye. May you have a swift recovery." Regis stood up, gathered up his things, and spared Cas one last glance before walking out the hospital.

\-----

"Well well well. I didn't know the witcher had a sense of style." (im guessing the dialogue right here) Anna remarked as Geralt stepped down the stairs in fancy clothes. "And you even brought a mask. However, it looks absolutely idiotic."

"I like this mask…" Geralt defended as he self-consciously touched his ridiculous bird mask.

"Don't worry, I brought one for you." Anna ignored Geralt and procured two masks from her ass. "Now, put away that bird mask or so help me I will force it off."

"Okay…" Geralt hesitantly took off his favorite mask and put on the one Anna provided. "How's your eye?"

"A little swollen, but I can still see in it." Anna led Geralt to the gates of the party. "I had my makeup artist cover it up to the best of his ability."

"He did a good job."

"I will be sure to tell him that." Anna remarked. "Now, do we have a plan?"

"We should find Cecelia Bellante. Raise less suspicion that way. We find her, we find the Cintrian."

"Mm, good idea." Anna agreed. She then stepped forward and began speaking with the bouncer.

Geralt didn't pay much attention to the conversation. He was too busy moping over the change in masks. At least he might get a new one. The bouncer opened the door inside, ushering Anna and Geralt inside. Once they were in, he shut the door behind him.

"Now, let us search for Cecelia."

"Any idea where she might be?" Geralt asked as he walked down the stairs.

"…The bouncer gave us a hint. Do you remember?"

"No." Geralt sheepishly admitted. He gravitated to the food tables and began swiping treats.

"She has a flower in her hair." Anna informed Geralt as she silently judged him.

"Did he say what kind?" Geralt was polite enough to hold off on eating for the time being.

"…Yes." Anna grabbed a glass of wine.

"You remember what kind?"

"…"

"…"

"…No."

"Better than nothing." Geralt shrugged.


	28. Chapter 28

After Geralt had finished stealing all the food and drink, "harvested" the plants, lanterned the shit out of the sky, whined about everything, and crafted an epic vampire penis from a collection of balls ("Depicts spiritual dualism. The continual battle between good and evil. And defiance." Was what some art and Common Tongue teacher said about it.), he and Anna finally got around to tracking down Cecelia Bellant. And when they found her, she had her tits hanging out.

"Ahhh, you must think I'm Cecelia Bellant!" Said Apparently Not Cecelia Bellant.

Geralt and Anna shared an awkward look, then Geralt replied, "Orchird, confused me…"

"I told you not to move!" Some painter yelled at Not Cecelia.

Not Cecelia rolled her eyes. "As she concluded her performance, Cecelia tossed the flower into the crowd. I caught it… but I did see the nobleman." Not Cecelia elaborated.

"Really like to talk to him… What'd he look like?" Geralt asked.

"Like many here. Tall, dark," Not Cecelia giggled. "Masked…"

"Know where he might be now?"

"He gave Cecelia a small gift - a heart-shaped box. Then they strolled off together towards the refreshment tables-"

"Excuse me - madame, monsieur," The painter butted in, moving in front of Anna and Geralt. "I cannot work like this. You must leave. Now."

Anna sighed, but put up no more trouble. She walked out the room, with Geralt following her lead. "This party is… something."

"Tell me about it." Geralt commented as he made a beeline to the refreshment tables.

"Well, we know they didn't get anything after we arrived."

"Mm, painting was almost done, woman must've been there a while, would not have seen them while getting painted."

"No, I mean you stole all the food and drink, you…" Anna sighed. "Let's just find the Cintrian."

When Geralt approached the tables, he could smell the disticnt perfume thst had hujg in the air earlier. However, he paid it no mind as he used his ultra powerful witcher senses to find something that could have easily been found by anyone.

"Empty heart-shaped box… Cecelia must've left it behind." Gerakt pucked up the box and handed it to Anna.

"It looks like it held a flask of perfume." Anna remarked as she examined the box. "A gift from the Cintrian, I imagine…"

Geralt sniffed the box, then the surrounding area. "Scent still hangs in the air. Let's follow it."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Anna gestured for him to move.

Geralt closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths through his nose, then opened his eyes. The scent trail was obvious to him now, even seeming to glow red. Geralt took a few steps forward and began tracking the scent, following it even through the twists, turns, and waves it presented. When Geralt was met by a door that suddenly appeared mere centimeters from his face, he knew he had found his destination, or so he would tell his friends.

"Are you alright?" Anna pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket.

"Ugh, fine." Geralt pinched his nose and tilted his head forward. "Don't think it's broken, or anything."

"Do you want my-"

"No." Geralt released his nose and looked up, with no blood trailing out of his nose. "Let's just…" Geralt trailed off, opening the door for himself and Anna.

Anna stepped inside first, followed by Geralt. Geralt's nose led him to a door guarded by a masked man, who was clearly not lacking in the muscle department.

"Sorry, only artists in The Mandragora allowed." The bodyguard promptly stopped the two.

Anna sighed for what seemed like the millionth time, turning around. "Come, we must cobsider what to do." Geralt turned with her, about to walk off.

"I… I'd recognize that voice anywhere!"

At that, Geralt turned around, while Anna kept her back to him.

"You… you must be mistaking me for someone else."

"I served fifteen years in the palace. Your Grace, I'd not mistake you for anyone." The bodyguard deus ex machina'ed, taking off his mask as if it would help Anna recognize him.

Anna whipped around, shushing him. "Not so loyd. We are here incognito. On state business."

"Yes, Your Grace! How may I serve?" The bodyguard said somewhat loudly.

"Looking for Cecelia Bellant." Geralt answered for her.

"She's in her dressing room," The bodyguard pointed to the door. "Where she went with a nobleman. They clearly… were drawn to each other."

"What'd the man look like?" Geralt asked.

"Tall, broad shouldered. A black beard peeping out frol under his mask." After a bit of thought, he added: "And he spoke with a foreign accent, a drawl of sorts."

"That must be him… We must get to the dressing room. Quickly." Anna commanded, stepping forward.

"Yes, Your Grace! I'll take you." The bodyguard turned around, intending to hold the door open for Anna.

"No, stay here." Geralt verbally stopped the bodyguard. "Anyone tries to flee, you stop them."

The bodyguard nodded. "Understood."

With that, Geralt cautiously went inside, thumbing the knife hidden under his shirt. The scent of blood and perfume greeted him, clinging to the air like vines to a brick wall. After a quick glance around the room, he started going up the stairs, careful to keep his footfalls quiet. Anna, noting his odd behavior, snuck into the room, closing the door behind her. Geralt glanced behind him, making sure Anna was staying quiet, then he climbed up to the top of the stairs.

The scent of blood and perfume lingered still, stronger and stubborn. Two doors stood before Geralt, neither welcoming him. However, Geralt would not be deterred. He followed the scent of blood and perfume to the door on the left, pushing it open a crack. The scent of blood and perfume stank in the room, and on the ground…

Geralt opened the door all the way, stepping inside the room. Soon after, Anna joined him. She gasped, covering her mouth with one hand.

"That… that must be Cecelia."


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! After so much procrastination, I finally got this done! (even though it's a short chapter) Also I nearly accidentally killed myself with ibuprofen and aspirin yesterday. They interact to give people ulcers. Luckily, the ibuprofen became nonreactive before I took the aspirin. I'm fine, and now I can brag about cheating death.

"No pulse. We're too late."

"He…" Anna forced herself to take a deep breath. "He slit her throat. The brute…"

Geralt crouched by the body, searching for more clues as to what happened. "Hmm. Didn't go oyt the door, guard would've noticed. Might still be somewhere here…"

"You must find him before he harms another. I shall alert Orianna at once. She should bring her soirée to a close."

"Shouldn't split up." Geralt warned.

"Geralt, I will be fine. Go after that rogue. I shall fetch help." Anna commanded in a tone that left no room for argument, then left Geralt to his own devices.

Geralt shook his head, then fine-tuned his senses to find the bloody handprint that anyone with decent vision could see. "Bloody handprint… mhm. It's his."

Geralt went out onto the balcony, for that was where the handprint led. To his right, a door was laid across the balconies like it was nobody's business. He silently noted the sheer amount of strength it would have taken as he took tentative steps across the improvised platform. Then, Geralt metaphorically (and somewhat literally) followed his nose to a ladder. Whether it was always there, or if the Cintrian placed it there, Geralt did not know. Either way, he climbed it onto another balcony, then he stepped into the adjoining room.

Geralt sniffed around, noting the scent of blood and perfume still lingered. "Could still be here. Need to stay alert."

\-----

"Lady Orianna." Anna stood just outside the doorway, politely waiting on the lady of the house.

"Oh! Come in!" Orianna waved Anna onto the patio, delight filling her tone. "Welcome to my party. Are you having fun?"

"Yes, but…" Anna joined Orianna at the table. "Well, something has happened."

"Oh dear, please don't tell me you walked in on the-"

"A murder. There's been a murder."

Orianna froze. "A murder?"

"Yes. Cecelia Bellant was murdered in her dressing room. I, along with a tracker I hired recently, found the body."

"Ce… Cecelia?"

"Yes. Her…" Anna stopped and shook her head. "A man she was with, known as the Cintrian, was the one to do it, I am certain."

"Cecelia…"

"If it makes you feel better, it appeared to be a quick death."

Orianna nodded, standing up with a sudden anger that surprised herself. "You're certain this 'Cintrian' fellow is the murderer?"

"Absolutely. He is a criminal, one with potential ties to the Beast. We must find him at once."

"You need not tell me twice. What did he look like?"

"From other people's descriptions of him, he's tall, bearded, dark, apparently, and he spoke with a Cintrian accent. I want to tell you more, but I'm afraid-"

"He's dead."

"What?"

"I… I caught him attempting to rob me. We fought, and he… fell out the window." Orianna finished with a sigh. "I will take you to my chambers. That is where we fought." With that, Orianna stood up and led Anna away.

\-----

"Jewel was in the box, it seems. Cintrian tried to steal it, but someone got in his way. They fought, struggled, that's clear… ended with one of them flying out the window. Fall had to have killed them. Jewel's still here, though, so our Cintrian must've been the flier."

Geralt finished up his summary of the evidence and strode over to the window. Sure enough, there was a dead body below, blood everywhere. It brought to mind one of those water balloons that burst when thrown. Geralt shook his head, clearing away the mental image. Just then, then door behind him opened. Geralt's hand reflexively threw to his sword, before he realized he had left his sword. However, there was no need for it. Two bald bodyguards stepped through the door, followed by the Lady of the House.

"So this is the tracker… a wither, yes?" Orianna spoke.

"Indeed, this is him." Anna walked into the room without missing a beat. "We found the body together. Then he set off in pursuit of the killer."

"And ended up here, but I've only found evidence of a fight…" Geralt added, verbally shrugging. "Seems the Cintrian's killed his last, finally failed this time. Shame it happened too late for Cecelia."

"Poor girl… always chose her males badly…" Orianna frowned, looking out the window. "But I would never have suspected she could arrive with a murderer." Orianna took a deep breath. "I'll alert the staff, have them see to her body at once… meanwhile, we should sit. I will tell you everything. In full detail."


	30. Chapter 30

"Before we begin, could you leave us for a few minutes?" Anna asked Geralt as they stepped onto the porch.

"What for?"

"I need to discuss something with the Lady. I won't be long."

"Sure." Geralt turned around and went back inside. Not that it would do much good for preventing eavesdropping.

"What is it?" Orianna said as she grabbed a goblet and a bottle of wine.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, I am not. Thank you for asking." After a thought, Orianna grabbed a few more goblets and put them on the table. "Wine?"

"I certainly wouldn't mind." Anna consented enthusiastically as Orianna began filling a goblet. "How do you feel?"

Orianna finished pouring the wine, then she paused. She pondered, mulling over her thoughts. "I guess I feel fine. Except for the matter of Cecelia."

"Was she a close friend of yours?"

Orianna nodded. "She… she helped me found my orphanage…"

"My condolences." Anna put her hand on Orianna's arm. "If it helps, the man that murdered her won't be able to hurt anyone anymore."

"Thank you." Orianna blinked rapidly. "I… I need a few minutes. Could you…?"

Anna understood. She turned around and went back indoors.

\-----

"You may come back out now."

With that, Anna opened the door and entered the porch. Orianna sat at the table with the goblets from earlier, which she began to fill with wine. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot and red, but other than that she looked normal.

"You okay?" Geralt checked on Orianna as he leaned on a pillar.

"Yes, I… Cecelia was a dear friend of mine."

Geralt didn't press. "Ready to talk about what happened?"

"Yes. Oh, where should I start?"

"How about just before you found the Cintrian?" Anna suggested for her.

"Hm, I guess that's a good place as any." Orianna took a swig of wine from her goblet and spoke. "It was still early in the party, but not too early, you see. Cecelia had recently arrived with her new lover, the Cintrian. She sang for us all," Orianna smiled sadly. "And then the Cintrian took her away to be alone. I assumed they meant to have sex, it's normal at my parties, so I thought nothing of it. Some time later, I entered my bedchambers, and…" Orianna gripped her goblet hard. "I caught him red-handed, attempting to burgle, rifling through my possessions."

"What did you do? Summon the guards?" Anna inquired, taking a drink.

"There was no time. I feared he'd escape, refused to give him the chance. He stood with his back to me, so I attacked. He struck his head on a picture frame as we struggled. He was bleeding, dazed… and then he drew a knife. Everythin' happened very quickly then. I knocked the weapon out of his hand and pushed him, hard. He--"

"Fell out the window." Geralt finished her sentence.

"Just so." Orianna agreed.

"Claimed the man was trying to rob you when you walked in the room?"

"Yes," Orianna confirmed. "He stood over my dressing table, pawing through my jewelry…"

"Mhm. After this, is my guess." Geralt brought out the yellow jewel and showed it to the women. Anna stared at it for several seconds before speaking up.

"Why, that's the Heart of Toussaint!" Anna exclaimed. "Orianna, how did you ever come to have it?"

"I bought it. Many years ago. From a young woman." Orianna calmly answered.

After that, Geralt spoke up. "Jewel seems important. Why?"

"The Heart is an heirloom, it belonged to my family for years… then it disappeared. I didn't think we would ever recover it."

"Seems someone is very determined to find it. The thief left his tool bag behind. Found this drawing inside it. Look." Orianna pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and laid it flat on the table. Sure enough, it depicted the Heart of Toussaint, in full detail.

"Representation's pretty faithful. Cintrian must've been on a job… got very clear instructions what to look for." Geralt summized.

"So… so it is not him we seek, but his employer." Anna said what Geralt had been thinking. "Is this the only evidence we've found?"

"Also happened on the weapon he attacked Orianna with." Geralt pulled out a knife and gave it to Anna. "Hunting knife, used to skin game. Got an emblem on its hilt."

Anna examined the knife, then looked bacl to Geralt. "This crest is used by the Lords of Dun Tynne. The present master of the castle is a passionate hunter… Our next lead, perhaps?"

"Dun Tynne… Remember the place." Geralt commented. "Abandoned ruin just a few years back."

"More recently the family's last heir, Roderick, returned to his ancestral seat and restored the castle." Anna quickly filled Geralt in.

"Know any more about this Roderick?"

"His grandfather was an advisor to Queen Ademarta. The family received those lands as a grant for his service. Roderick is quite the recluse. He avoids society, preferring the company of a small team of knights… Though the latter term is imprecise, as they seem more akin to vandals with crests on their shields."

Geralt changed the subject. "Orianna, everything we discussed here, hope you'll keep it to yourself. Counting on it, in fact. Word gets out he, uh, failed in his attempt to steal the jewel, his employer could run. We need to proceed cautiously."

Orianna nodded. "Discretion is in the interest of us all. I'll not ask what this is about, just as I expect not to be troubled about it again, by anyone."

Footsteps could be heard momentarily before one of Orianna's bodyguards stepped onto the scene and politely stood nearby. "Ahem… forgive me, Madame Orianna, but light I have a word?"

"You must excuse me a moment…" Orianna stood up and let the bodyguard escort her away. When she was gone, Geralt piped upm

"The drawing - it's on the same type of paper the victims' names were written on. Drawn with the same ink, too. Seems the work of our blackmailers."

"Who were not only behind the Beast's murders, but also stole the Sangreal and sought to steal the Heart of Toussaint…" Anna realized as she stared at the paper.

"Look," Geralt shifted. "The wine, the jewel - both tied to you, intrinsically. Coincedence? Not something I'm willing to believe. Worried about one thing - that somewhere at the end of this scheme, plan might call for an attempt on your life.

"It… could be something else altogether." Anna dramatically rose and then dramatically gazed out the porch. "My sister, Syanna, might be among the schemers. She left court when we were children… my parents banished her from the duchy. I've not seen her since."

"Think your sister might be involved?" Geralt raised an eyebrow. "Why?

"You see… I recall her always being rather… possessive, throwing jealous fits if I had something she didnt."

"Hear that's normal for sisters - rivalry…"

"True… I suppose I gave as good as I got. There are times I miss that very much." Anna admitted, looking to her palace. "The wine, it's theft, was the first clue. That's very much like her - she always did enjoy stealing my toys. But I grew almost certain when I saw the Heart of Toussaint. Syanna received it from Father as a gift. At a time when my parents thought of her as but an ill-behaved little girl. Someone wanted some of my wine. The same someone ordered our family jewel stolen - or recovered. It's my sister, it must be."

"A fallen princess satisfying whims, going after lost luxuries… hm, could be right." Geralt said as he mulled the new information over. "What'd you sister do to get banished?"

"Syanna was… cursed."

"Parents run afoul of some mage?"

"No." Anna shook her head. "She was born at an inopportune moment. They say she was touched by the Curse of the Black Sun…" Anna turned around to look Geralt in the eye, silently pleading for the response she hoped for. "Geralt, is it true? Can an individual be evil because they were born during the wrong lunar phase?"

"Could be the case. Could also be because they were treated like lepers from birth - isolated, prodded, ostracized." Geralt answered truthfully. "Couldn't have had it easy, Syanna."

"She… she was angry at the whole world. She felt inferior, though she masked this with confidence, arrogance even. She could also be cruel at times. I recall one such situation…" Anna sat down and began to explain. "She persuaded Cedric de Coulbert that she could see the future in her dreams. We were children, and Cedric's brother was smitten with me. It was an innocent childhood crush. Syanna knew of it. She told Cedric of a dream she had had - that he would die… at the hands of his own brother. Cedric stole his father's sword and killed his brother. She destroyed two lives with the prank - Cedric mourns to this day." Anna stood up. "In the end, they forced her to leave the palace… a decade past, more. I've missed her terribly since." Anna walked around the table in a semi-circle, coming to a stop in front of Geralt. "Your mission has gained new import. You must go to Dun Tynne and if Syanna is there, you must find her. No matter what she did, she is not to be harmed in any way, shape or form. You must make sure of that."

"…Can't guarantee her safety, unfortunately. Especially if she's one of those responsible for these crimes."

"Witcher," Anna's tone took on a dark shade of fury, combined with a hint of concern. "That was not a request." 

The conversation was abruptly interrupted by Anna turning her head to see that Orianna had just came back, with what Geralt could hear was two different people, who all carried the scent of herbs.

"Your Grace, Geralt, I'd like to introduce…" Orianna started.

"Regis!" Anna's eyebrows shot up. "I… you were at the Phoenix Egg Challenge!"

"So you finally recognized me!" Regis smirked.

"I apologize, I was in a hurry." Just then, Anna noticed another person had stepped onto the scene, who wore a black coat that went down to their ankles. "And this is…?"

"Helena Ettinger." Regis replied as Helena waved sheepishly. "We are lending our combined resources to the witcher's hunt."

"Your Grace." Helena spoke up after some hesitance. "It is an honor to meet you."


	31. Chapter 31

"Ah, yes, splendid… but why are you here, at Orianna's?"

"They came to pay me a surprise visit, so I invited them in for a glass of wine. Regis and I have known each other for…" Orianna paused to think. "Ooh, ages, literally." 

"What about Helena? How long have you known her?" Anna asked out of curiosity.

"Since she was just a little baby!" Orianna giggled. "She used to be one of my little orphans. Then one day she decided to strike out on her own, and so she scraped together some money and managed to move out! Oh, I was so proud of her!"

"Ori…" Helena groaned…

"Let me tell you, she had grown so much leading up to that day! Why, I remember the time when she got into the peanut butter, and-"

"No." Helena cut her off.

"But it's-"

"No!" Helena blushed and covered her face.

"Alright, alright, I won't get into it." Orianna huffed. Once she heard Helena's sigh of relief, she continued. "But you should really hear about-"

"ORI!!!"

"I think that's enough." Regis stepped in. "She already resembles a tomato. No need to embarass her further."

"But she looks so cute like this!" Orianna resisted the urge to pinch Helena's cheeks. She was too old for that. "She's always been a hard blusher. You could get her red in seconds."

"Ori…" Helena blushed even harder.

"What, dear?" Orianna smiled.

"Can we just…?" Helena gestured to the table.

"Yes, let us sit. Very good idea, Helena. We can't stand around all day, after all." As he said this, Regis pulled out the chairs for everyone.

"Thank you!" Helena gave a toothy grin as she sat directly across from Geralt.

"You're welcome." Regis sat beside Geralt, with his knee touching Geralt's. The contact sent sparks of pure happiness straight to his heart, forcing him to cover a growing smile with a cough to avoid grinning like an idiot.

"So, witcher," Orianna filled her goblet with wine. "I hear you know Regis, too? Even that you are… friends."

Geralt nodded. "Few I can rely on like Regis. Kinda hoping he thinks the same way of me." If Geralt was an ordinary human, his face would have started to resemble Helena's. But he was a witcher, so his face retained its pallid color.

"Curious… it seems opposites really do attract." Orianna mentioned.

"Don't be fooled dear. Geralt has many merits." Regis was quick to defend Geralt from the subtle jab. "He merely hides them from the world very diligently."

"Mhm." Helena and Orianna grunted at the same time. They gave each other a Look, then Helena spoke up once again, this time alone. "So, uh, what's it like fighting a monster?"

"Like, uh," Geralt scratched the back of his head. "Like riding a horse. Except the ground is on fire and everything's on fire and the horse is on fire and you're on fire."

"Did your horse actually catch on fire at some point?" Anna asked.

"Yeah, once. Took me ten spells to calm her down."

"Wow." Orianna took a sip of wine and changed the subject. "So, Helena, you're aiding the witcher in his contract?"

"Yep!" Helena nodded with a smile. "I'm helping him track down a lead."

"Oh my! I certainly hope you're not putting yourself in any danger. If it's the Beast of Beauclair…"

"Nah, I don't think so. Regis would have mentioned it."

The whole table fell into silence.

"Oh no. Don't tell me…"

"It is." Regis mumbled. "I apologize for neglecting to tell you."

Helena stared in disbelief. "Oh gods…"

"The Beast?" Orianna's eyebrows shot up.

"Yes." Regis confirmed.

Anna sat up, looked at the wine bottle, and exclaimed, "Oh! We are low on wine! Someone should fetch more!"

"Let me go." Geralt wasted no time in standing up. "Wanna help, Regis? Know your wine a lot better than I know mine."

"We shall return forthwith." And with that, Regis followed Geralt downstairs.

"It's directly below us!" Orianna shouted after them.

\-----

"An exceptional conversation, don't you think? Vampires, a witcher, a potential sorceress, and the Duchess of Toussaint - my my." Regis remarked as he walked alongside his (soon-to-be) love.

"Highly exceptional, Regis… wanted to talk to you in private." After he said that, Geralt stood in front of Regis and stopped in his tracks, effectively cornering Regis. "Who's that girl and why was she with you?"

If Regis detected the slightly jealous tone in Geralt's voice, he made no indication of it. "Her name is Helena Ettinger. She is a volunteer medic at one of Beauclair's hospitals."

"Doesn't explain why you're getting her involved." Geralt frowned as he crossed his arms.

"Well, you see…" Regis stuttered out. He gave a sigh. "Dettlaff did not appear. Several guards, accompanied by Louis de la Croix, forcibly entered his home. I was forced to retreat."

"Go on…"

"Long story short, I met a boy named Cas, who, bizarrely enough, beared a great resembelance to you. He even wore a wolf's head medallion, and two swords on his back. If I didn't know any better, I would assume he was a witcher."

"Get to the point." Geralt's pout grew in size.

"Ah, yes, he was injured in a fight, I believe, he had broken his ribs, so I took him to the hospital. But before that, he had mentioned he knew of a hiding location, which Dettlaff would go to. When I had asked, he replied that he had used magic to divine this."

"Aren't higher vampires immune to-" Geralt began to point out.

"Yes, yes we are. Which is why I, personally, am slightly suspicious of this Cas. But at this point, he is my only lead. Coming back to my explanation, when I later visited him in the hospital, he was gone. This is when Miss Ettinger comes into play. She had healed him, you see, and had escorted Cas out of the hospital. I convinced her to aid me in searching for him, plus the cave Cas mentioned as Dettlaff's hiding spot, and, of course, Dettlaff himself, and that brings us here."

"Mhm." Geralt accepted Regis' explanation. "One thing bothering me, though. If you were with Cas, and he knew where Dettlaff was gonna be, why didn't you just get Cas to guide you to it?"

"…"

"…"

"…Excuse me for a minute." Regis poofed away for several minutes. When he came back, his face held a few wrinkles too many, and his nose was slightly too upturned. "I apologize for my lack of composure. I had to, uh, vent."

Geralt patted Regis on the back. "That's fine. Let's just pick a wine."

"Mm, yes. Let's." Regis strode over with Geralt to stand in front of the narrow selection of wine.

"Guessing it's no accident you two dropped by…"

"It would be some coincedence, indeed… no, a dutiful little bird told us."

"Mhm." Geralt didn't doubt him. He knew of Regis' little spy network. "Now listen close. Managed to learn where the blackmailers are. They're based at Dun Tynne castle."

\-----

"Ugh, what's taking them so long?" Helena whined as she tapped a spoon against the table.

"Patience, Lena." Orianna chided as she craned her neck to not-so-subtly eavesdrop on the conversation occuring below her. "Regis just might need to spend some time alone with Geralt."

"You mean they're smooching…" Helena grumbled.

"Helena!"

"What? It's what we're all thinking."

"I am fairly certain they are both straight." Anna sat up as she added her two cents. "Regis was rumored to have had, ahem, relations with a succubus at one point, and Geralt… well…"

"Your Grace, they-" Orianna shot up. "They're coming back. Act natural."

Orianna stood on the table and dramatically posed, while Anna raised both feet in the air and held that position. Helena had just enough time to balance a cup on her head before Regis and Geralt came back.

"Ah! You're back! It took you long enough." Anna casually (not) greeted them as her legs became tired.

"Contrary to what common folk believe, choosing a wine is not nearly as easy as it might seem. Especially a wine to be served to such exquisite ladies." Regis smoothly answered, not noticing anything unusual about the situation.

"Regis - gallant as ever." Anna put her feet down. "I regret all the more that I shan't finish this second bottle with you." She stood, shifting out of the chair. "Duty calls."

"Your Grace, always a pleasure." Orianna mimicked her in a show of politeness.

"It was a pleasure to meet you." Helena smiled, and to her surprise, Anna smiled back.

"I thank you for your help, all of you. Geralt, will you see me out?"

Geralt nodded silently. He kept pace with Anna as she walked out, eventually leaving behind everyone else. They paused just outside the front gates, allowing Orianna to listen in.

"Did they say anything good?" Helena asked once they had left.

Orianna pursed her lips. "Depends."

"Still indulging in eavesdropping, I see." Regis chuckled, taking a seat. He filled everyone's goblets as he smirked. "Quite a bad habit, if I do say so myself."

"Yes, I remember." Orianna smiled. "I had gotten myself into trouble many times because I just couldn't keep my nose out of, well, everything."

"Ah, youth. Mine was…" Regis paused. "Mine was not exactly pleasant, but there are some good memories in there. Let us toast to our youth."

"To our own shitty habits!" Orianna clinked her cup to Regis'. "Lena?"

"Uh," Helena held her glass to the others. "To having fun!"

And with that, they all downed their drinks, minus Regis, who took a small sip in order to avoid overindulgence. As the evening went on, Helena kept drinking, and drinking, and drinking, until she couldn't even ask someone to pour her another drink. The night ended with her falling out of her chair and collapsing into a heap on the floor. She had to be almost dragged away, for even the slightest jostling sent her into a fit of dry heaves.

"Poor girl." Regis said as he adjusted his grip on her.

"She always did have a hard time controlling herself." Orianna frowned.

"Well, I hope she never suffers from addiction. Goodness knows it's a horrible condition."

Orianna scratched the back of her head and pondered slightly. "Usually, she can resist temptation, but after she has a drink…" Orianna cursed under her breath. "I never should have let her drink so much…"

"I see." Regis reached his destination, a guest bedroom Orianna had recently had redecorated. "Could you open the door for me, please?"

Orianna reached behind Regis and got the door for him, allowing him inside. "Will you be needing a room as well?"

"I appreciate the offer, but," Regis carefully laid Helena down on the bed. "I have already made for myself a place to stay."

"If it's another cemetary-"

"It's not!" Regis quickly lied.

"Then I'll take your word for it, then." Orianna tucked Helena in and brushed some hair from her face. "Sweet dreams."

"Will you be staying up?"

Orianna's face grew dark. "…I might need to."

"Let us return outside, then." Regis guided Orianna outside. "Some more fresh air might do you good."

"But Cecelia…"

"I know, dear. I know." Regis gave Orianna a long hug.

Unknown to Helena, cat eyes shined in the dark as they watched over her sleeping form. They blinked once, then they turned and faced away from the window. Footsteps silently crept away as the owner of said cat eyes backed away and exited the property.


	32. Chapter 32

Milly awoke with a gasp. Flashes of her dreams blinded her, making her choke and claw desperately at her chest. All of a sudden, the floor shot up to meet her. She landed with an ungraceful thud, which reverbrated through her entire being. A small whimper filled her ears. After a moment, Milly realized she was the one whimpering.

Clumsy hands and feet planted themselves firmly on the ground. Milly took a deep breath, and then she raised herself into a sitting position, then grabbed the nightstand and forced herself onto her feet. Grunts shifted into pants as Milly landed back on the bed with a thud. While she waited for herself to catch her breath, Milly lolled her head to the side. She was in an unfamiliar room, and from the looks of it, it was the nicest room Milly has ever been in, not counting any abandoned inns or houses she had stayed in while the Catriona had hit Kovir. Was it still going on? Milly couldn't remember, or be bothered to care at the moment.

A jug of water sat on the nightstand Milly had used for support. If Milly put in some hard work, she could probably dip her hand in it. But alas, what little energy she had was drained by her efforts to get back into bed. Milly tried raising her hand anyway… and then realized how futile it was and stopped trying. If she had any strength left, she would have said multiple choice words about her situation. She would have to make do with internally screaming.

\-----

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"

Helena fell out of bed with the worst damn hangover ever. Every damn vibration aggravated her damn migraine and now every damn thought was exponentially growing her damn hangover until it spread to her entire damn body. And how she was on the damn cold floor with her damn wrist being bent at an awkward damn angle.

"Lena?!" 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Yes, I know, your head hurts. How about we get you back into bed?"

Gentle hands lifted Lena onto the bed. Lena whimpered, hearing the blinds being closed. Those same hands then reached down to stroke her hair, eventually rubbing at her temples.

"Relax." Orianna whispered, mindful of Helena's sensitive hearing. "You had a little too much to drink last night, so I let you stay here."

"Rrrrrrrregis…?"

"He left behind some herbs for a tea. He says that it'll soothe hangovers. Want me to bring you some?"

"Mm-hm…"

"I'll bring you a cup, then." Orianna tucked Lena back in. "Try not to fall out of bed while I'm gone."

"Ehhhhh…"

"And a stuffie, while I'm at it." Orianna decided as she stepped away.

"Mmmghfrrpm…"

"I know, I know. Get some rest. You need it." Orianna closed the door behind her as quietly as she could, then she went to the room she kept her spare toys in.

\-----

The door opened with a slight squeak, which to Milly it might as well have been nails on a chalkboard. A face peeked out from the crack, followed by a body. A short man hesitated upon seeing Milly, then he shook his head.

"Good to see you're awake!" The man finally said. "How do you feel?"

"…"

"That bad, huh?" The man frowned. He dragged in a cart, by the looks of which contained toiletries, maybe something edible, too.

Milly watched as the man cautiously approached her with the cart. He seemed to set out millions of things on a nearby counter, ending with a plate of… something. Milly's brain was not cooperating.

"Y'know, you had me worried for a second." The man chuckled, hands shaking as he searched for some silverware. "You… you had to be carried in, covered in blood and whatnot. Good thing that… elf… girl was here to help, huh?"

"Wha…?" Milly's voice was unrecognizable to her own ears. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Wha happ'n?"

"I don't know. She just came in, paid for a week's stay, then left you here. At first it seemed suspicious, then I remembered she volunteers at a hospital and likely knows what she's doing, so…"

Milly took note of that. "Who…?"

"Don't rightly know. I've never had a chance to learn her name. And before you ask, she signed under Jane Doe." The man finally found the silverware, put it on the plate, and then served it to Milly, keeping himself as far away from her as possible. "Here, eat this. You'll feel better."

"Thanks." Milly took a fork, stabbed it into a piece of scrambled egg, and jammed it into her mouth without any regard for whether or not she chokes. After pausing to swallow, she spoke up again. "Where 'm I?"

"The l'auberge de petit baguette." The man answered, taking a few steps back. "Located in the center of Beauclair."

Milly took more bites of her food. Come to think of it, she's passed this place multiple times while her parents were looking for work. From what she's seen, it's very climbable, with loads of hiding spots and food that's just thrown out for no reason. In other words, it's a street urchin's dream. "Is the food free?"

"Yes, breakfast is on us!" The man nodded a little too eagerly.

"Thanks." Milly moved onto her toast, grabbing a piece and shoving it into her mouth.

\-----

"Eat up, dear." Carol pushed the plate in front of her son.

"Not hungry." Louis muttered without looking up.

"Please, you haven't eaten a thing since you came home."

"But I have!" Louis instinctually defended himself.

"Just a few bites? For momma?" After a few moments, Carol took a fork and jammed it into a sausage, then held it to Louis' mouth. "Heeeeere comes the hummingbird! Fwoooooom!"

"Mother-" Louis got interrupted by a piece of sausage choking him. After an embarassing amount of choking noises, Carol removed the sausage.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" Carol wiped Louis' drool with a handkerchief.

"Yes, mother, I-" Louis coughed and cleared his throat. "I'm okay." He smiled, giving his mother a sense of relief.

"I'm sorry I choked you." Carol put the fork down. "It's just… I worry about you. I thought… you were dead…"

"Mother." Louis reached for Carol's hand and took it in his own. "I'm fine. Soon, this whole incident will be behind us, and our lives will go back to normal."

"There shouldn't have been an incident to begin with!" Carol slammed her other hand on the table. "You should never have been kidnapped! You should have been safe, and sound, and I shouldn't have had to start preparing your godsdamned funeral!"

"But I'm here now." Louis slowly eased Carol into a hug. "I'm still breathing, mother. I'm still alive. I'm here."

"You're here… you're here…" Carol kissed Louis on the forehead and began rubbing his back.


	33. Chapter 33

"No, I don't think so." Orianna frowned as she held the poster in one hand.

"Oh." The guard sighed. He shook his head in resignation. "You may keep that sign. If you gain any information related to her, please report it immediately."

"Yes sir." 

With that, Orianna waved a hand over, signaling a servant to come guide the knights out. Once they had disappeared behind the door, Orianna turned around and briskly walked to the guest bedroom. She slowly opened the door, peeking in and seeing Helena sitting up.

"Lena?" Orianna called out. "Are you feeling better?"

"Lil." Helena groaned, rubbing her eyes.

Orianna stepped inside and shut the door behind her. She sat on the bed and rubbed Helena's knee. "The guards were just here. They're looking for someone."

"Who?"

"Don't rightly know, but they gave me a wanted poster." Orianna held said poster by the top and bottom and showed it to Helena. "Have you seen this girl?"

It took Helena several seconds to focus on the image. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, forcing her vision to clear. Once the image finally became clear, she had to repress a gasp. Right in the center of the poster was Milly, the girl she had healed the other day. Below her, a long list of crimes innocously presented themselves.

Assault of Her Grace… insultation of Her Grace… major theft… fleeing from the law… property damage… treason… assault and battery… improper decorum in the prescence of Her Grace… assault of multiple royal knights… interferring with investigation of crimes… suspected collusion with the Beast… destruction of ducal property… trespassing…

What the actual fuck did Milly do?

"Anyway," Orianna lowered the poster. "They told me to report any information I have."

"Will you?"

Orianna pondered that for a few moments. "I don't know. Possibly."

"I see." Helena croaked.

"Helena? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No." Helena lied, staring at Orianna's eyebrows.

"Are you certain? You seem… off about this issue."

"Yeah."

"I hope you're being honest." Orianna rolled up the poster. "From the sound of it, the duchy wants this girl. Bad."

\-----

She had just touched him for a second.

He had gone deathly pale. He yanked his hand away, stumbling backwards.

She blinked rapidly. Her strength returned, but only a little. Only enough for her senses to be restored to their normal state.

"Wha…" The man panted, rubbing his wrist. "What did you do?!"

"Nothing." Milly stared at the man, who was slowly backing away. She pushed herself into sitting up, noting how easy it was compared to earlier. "You… you ok?"

The man glanced to his wrist, then back to Milly. He dashed out the door in a panicked sprint, leaving the door open and Milly to wonder what that was all about. She sighed, getting out of the sudden sensory hell that is her bed to shut the door.

"Why's everyone so weird lately?" Milly muttered, putting on her shoes and socks. 

As she was looking down, Milly spotted an odd red spot just beneath her immediate vision. Milly focused her gaze to it, and discovered it wasn't just a spot. It was a humongous blotch covering the front of her gray dress, starting just beneath her collarbone and ending at her solar plexus. Milly gasped. There was no mistaking what this was. After what she's gone through, Milly could identify it anywhere. It was blood. Human blood.

\-----

Dettlaff stared at the poster for several long seconds, then he looked back to the bruxa. "And what of the guard themselves?"

"They're on high alert. Whatever Milly did, they want her. Bad."

Dettlaff frowned, rolling up the poster. "Anything else?"

"I heard there's been increased security at the palace, but I've yet to check." The bruxa mentioned.

"Forget about that. Focus on Milly. Bring her here." Dettlaff ordered. "I fear she may not survive for long."

"Um, may I ask a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Why do you wish to bring her here? She's just a human."

"That…" Dettlaff took a deep breath through his nose. "Is none of your business."

"I see." The bruxa frowned. In the blink of an eye, she was gone, leaving Dettlaff to brood alone.

\-----

Milly held her breath as she lightly touched the bloodstain. The rough texture of the dried blood gave her an important clue: the blood had soaked her hours ago. In other words, she had been covered in blood sometime around…

Sometime around…

Milly jolted, the memory of her fight suddenly returning to her. Regis, the boy, the explosion, the sharp pain. It all came back at once. She was forced to plant a hand on the ground to support her trembling body. Questions flittered through her mind, each one Milly found herself unable to answer.

She stood up and walked up to the mirror. Her reflection revealed a large tear in her dress just below her breast. Milly experimentally pushed one finger through the tear, finding smooth skin underneath. _Good,_ she thought, _not my blood._

Still looking into the mirror, Milly turned her back to it, showing another bloodstain of similar size, and with it, a tear that perfectly corresponded to the one in front.

"The fuck...?" Milly pondered aloud, feeling for the tear. As before, there was only smooth skin underneath. "The fuck?!" She repeated dramatically.

Milly returned her arms to her sides, giving a quick glance around the room. She spotted a small closet in the corner of the room and immediately opened the door. A few hangers greeted her, along with a whole lot of empty space.

"Dammit. No clothes." Milly sighed as she shut the closet. Oh well. She'll live. 

Making a mental note to look for some clothes, Milly stepped out the room into the hallway. Breakfast was on the inn, right? So there must be someone she can order from. Instinctually quieting her footfalls, she kept one hand on the rail as she kept to the side of the stairs. Milly reached the bottom of the stairs, freezing as her gut shot pure paranoia throughout her being. Milly pressed herself to the wall, inching towards the corner as she eavesdropped on a conversation between the innkeeper, and…

"She… she's just upstairs… Al… allow me to…"

The sound of armored boots thudding on the wooden floor resounded through the air. Milly had bolted before she even processed what was happening.


	34. Chapter 34

Geralt awoke to the smell of eggs and bacon wafting through the air. He sleepily mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he propped himself up. The soft blankets slipped down to his waist, revealing his naked torso. Last night, in a fit of fatigue combined with sensory issues and low spoons, he had literally ripped off his fancy clothing and threw it away to finally sleep in a bed. 

His bed.

Geralt didn't think he'd ever get used to saying that 

With a groan, Geralt got out of bed, abandoning his blankets in favor of stepping out onto the floor. The richly decorated room, filled with light, love, and more, greeted him warmly, as if wishing him a good morning. Geralt, however, didn't give a shit. He was a grumpy old man that wanted breakfast.

\-----

"Madam, you cannot break the diet the doctor prescribed for you! It is dangerous!" Barnabas-Basil pleaded, standing in the kitchen.

"Not to worry, child. I'll not be eating this." Marlene smiled, stirring the eggs into a fluffy yellow mountain with a spatula. "I simply wish to cook for the man that saved me."

"But you may be tempted to do so! And if you are tempted-"

"I'll just dump it all on you and… Geralt, was it?"

"Yes, madam." Barnabas-Basil nodded.

"You and Geralt will eat it for me, then." Marlene settled, flipping a piece of bacon. Her mouth salivated a little more at the thought of crunchy bacon between her teeth.

"But-"

"No buts!" Marlene held one finger to Barnabas-Basil's mouth. "I am cooking! That's final!"

"If Master Geralt was here-"

"He's not here, is he?" Marlene retorted with a sly smirk. "That means-"

The door opened, interrupting Marlene. In stepped a man wearing only his underwear. His muscles rippled as he leaned towards the food, his abs casting shadows on his own body. A thin dusting of hair accentuated his chest, giving the illusion that his muscles were even larger than they are. Veins protruded from his arms, yet they did not detract from his appearance. In fact, they only served to complement his biceps.

"Uh, hello?" The man waved a hand in front of Marlene's face, breaking the spell.

"Wh… wha?" A pressure suddenly released in Marlene's nose.

"Shit, you ok?" The man took Marlene's spatula and put it down on the counter.

"Oh, uh, yes, yes." Marlene nodded shakily.

"Want a doctor?" "Do you wish to see a doctor?" The man and Barnabas-Basil spoke at the same time.

"No. I just… does anyone have a handkerchief I can borrow?"

"Here." Barnabas-Basil pulled a black handkerchief from his pocket, which Marlene promptly took. "Would you like to sit down?"

"And abandon my cooking? No!" Marlene stubbornly insisted, picking up the spatula to prove her point.

"I can take over for a while." The man offered.

"No! Now get out! Cooking is an art and a science, which is why I need to be undisturbed!"

"But-"

"Out!" Marlene waved the spatula threateningly.

Both men sighed. The half-naked man was first to leave, then Barnabas-Basil, who shot her a concerned look before stepping out. Once Marlene closed the door behind them, she wiped the blood that had accumulated beneath her nostrils and got back to work.

\-----

Regis awkwardly paused just outside the threshold, adjusting his coat before continuing. He muttered under his breath something about greetings, then adjusted his coat again at the well.

"Hello Geralt, would you like to… no, too distant. Could you accompany me to… no, that won't work." Regis mulled over, thumbing the bouquet of red tulips, alstroemenias, and irises he had bought for this occasion. Just the thought of seeing Geralt's delight when he receives these flowers brought a smile to Regis' face. 

Regis would present these flowers with a slight flourish and charm his Geralt, then take him out to the loveliest restaurant in Beauclaire. After he pays for their meals, they would go on a romantic walk along the flowery fields, where Regis would first confess his undying love for him. Geralt would confess that he feels the same way, and then they would share their first kiss under the warmth of the sun!

Regis took a deep breath. It wouldn't do to get all giddy before he's even approached Geralt. He straightened his back, ran his clawed fingers through his hair, and mentally steeled himself to finally-

"Hello there." The voice shook Regis out of his thoughts. He whipped around, coming face-to-face with…

Milly?!

"I've never seen you before. What's your name?"

Regis blinked as the woman smiled at him. Now that he's taken a good look at her, it's apparent that this woman, with black hair and brown eyes, was not Milly. In fact, she appears to have at least two decades on her.

"Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy." Regis said at last, presenting his free hand. The woman took his hand, shook it, and likely said her own name, but Regis didn't catch it. However, before he could ask her to repeat it, she switched the topic.

"Say, have you heard of the assassination attempt on the master of the house?"

"What ever do you mean?"

"A girl tried to poison him, from what I've heard." The woman smirked. "Think she used cyanide. Anyway, there's some wanted posters of her around. I managed to get a copy, do you want to see it?"

"Yes, I would." Regis nodded.

The woman took a piece of parchment from her pocket, unfolded it, and presented it to Regis. "I still can't believe one girl would do all of this. Do you think she's in league with the Beast?"

The face of Milly stared at him from the poster. Beneath it, a long list of crimes were sprawled out.

Assault of Her Grace… insultation of Her Grace… major theft… fleeing from the law… property damage… treason… assault and battery… improper decorum in the prescence of Her Grace… assault of multiple royal knights… interferring with investigation of crimes… suspected collusion with the Beast… destruction of ducal property… trespassing…

"None of these involve murder, attempted or successful." Regis pointed out as he finished scanning the paper.

"Really? Oh, they must not have thought to put that there. Or they forgot."

"I doubt they would have simply forgotten, as the master of the house is Geralt of Rivia, the man in charge of the investigation on the Beast." Regis rolled the poster back up. 

"Whaaaaat?" The woman drawed out. "I didn't know that!"

Regis raised an eyebrow. "Anyway, do you know what happened to warrant this girl all these charges?"

"No."

"Do you mind if I keep this?"

"Go ahead, if it means you'll turn her in." The woman gave a grin that would have been joyful on any other person, but on her…

Regis dismissed that thought. "I would like to stay and chat, but I need to meet with Geralt, so if you'll excuse me…" He picked up his bouquet and walked away before the woman could stop him. Something about her was clearly off. What that was though, Regis could not put his finger on.

Regis was at the front door of Geralt's home before he knew it. He raised a loose fist and rapped his knuckles on the door. A few seconds later, a very shirtless Geralt greeted him.

"Regis!" Geralt immediately gave Regis a quick hug. "Didn't expect to see you! You find Dettlaff yet?"

"Nuh… no… uh…" Regis was suddenly very glad he was wearing multiple layers. Very, very, very glad.

Geralt let go of him. "Come in! Want some breakfast?" It was only then he noticed the flowers. "Ooh! Nice flowers!"

"They're for you!" Regis blurted out, holding them out to Geralt so fast he almost smacked him in the face with the blossoms.

Geralt pushed the flowers out of his face, grabbing them by the stems. "Thanks." He beamed.

"You're… you're… you're welcome." Regis blushed, covering his face with his hand. "Do you, uh…"

Geralt rushed back to the dining table before Regis could finish his sentence. He laid the flowers above what was presumably his plate and resumed his feast of bacon and eggs, eating directly from the large platters containing each every so often.

"Sir, you should not eat so fast! You might choke!" A bald man, Barnabas-Basil if Regis remembered correctly, warned Geralt from the opposite side of the table.

A stream of unintelligible gibberish left Geralt's stuffed mouth.

"Geralt." Regis got Geralt to pause and look at him. "I know you don't usually wake up to breakfast, but please make sure to chew before you swallow."

Geralt heeded his advice, slowing down his eating until he could safely swallow everyhing in his mouth, then proceeded to keep that pace for the next forkful. After he was done with that, he spoke. "Grab a plate and help yourself."

As soon as Regis realized that was directed at him, he started looking around for an additional plate setting, frowning when he couldn't even find some spare silverware.

"In the kitchen." Geralt pointed to said kitchen. "But be careful, Marlene really doesn't wanna be disturbed."

"Thank you." Regis nodded, heading into the kitchen. He was greeted by the strong scent of food, with the sound of sizzling bacon.

"Geralt, I told you, coming in here isn't going to make the food cook any faster… Oh, hello." Marlene wiped her hair from her face. "You're that… man that… Fuck, what's the word?"

"Stabilized you?" Regis answered.

"Yes! I never did thank you for that, did I?" Marlene scraped the eggs off the bottom of the pan, allowing the still-liquified eggs to cook in their steed. "I'm Marlene Trastamara, by the way."

"Yes, Geralt told me already. I am Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy. I presume you are feeling better?"

"Mm-hm, even managed to cook a mountainload of food." Marlene chuckled. "Why they have so much is a mystery."

"Speaking of which, I was wondering if you could point me to the plates…?"

Marlene took a plate from the counter, then set some silverware on it from the drawer, then finally took out a cup from the top cubbard and handed it all to Regis. "Are you a friend of Geralt's?"

"You could say that." Regis' light blush was obscured by the light of the fireplace.

"Well, make sure you get plenty to eat. You could stand to get a bit more meat on those bones."

"It wouldn't-"

"Oh please, everyone could use a little fat. After all, it makes you nice and soft for cuddles!" Marlene giggled. "But I digress. If you don't want any fat, good for you. If you want lots of fat, then good for you, too. I won't judge."

"I see." Regis nodded. "Well, I think I shall leave you to it."

"Tell Geralt this is the last batch I'm making, m'kay, sonny boy? I need to rest for a while."

"I'm certain he could hear that due to his witcher senses, but I'll pass on the information nonetheless." With that, Regis exited the kitchen and sat at the dining table next to Geralt. He took one of the serving spoons and scooped a generous portion of eggs onto his plate. "Do you like the flowers?"

"Mm-hm." Geralt nodded. "Gotta find a vase to put them in."

"Do you… know what they mean?"

"No."

"Maybe your majordomo could help."

At the mention of majordomo, Barnabas-Basil perked up. "How can I help?"

"Could you help Geralt find the meaning of these flowers?" Regis pointed to the bouquet.

"Hm, I don't know them off the top of my head, but one of my books discusses the meanings of flowers. I could find it, though it's been quite a while since I've needed it."

"Ah, that should help. Could you get it for him?" Regis requested.

"Yes sir, but it might take a while." Barnabas-Basil chowed down the last of his meal and stood up. He left the building, leaving Regis and Geralt to themselves.

"Geralt?"

"Hm?"

"There is… something that's been bothering me, and since we're here…"

Geralt remained silent.

"What happened at the palace?"


	35. Chapter 35

The window wouldn't budge. No matter how Milly fiddled with it, it simply would not move. The thudding behind her got closer. Any minute now, the guards would catch up to her and-

_Stab her beat her shank her smash her rip her limbs apart-_

Milly took a step back. She threw her weight into her shoulder and slammed into the window, partially destroying the wooden grilles and making web-like cracks appear on the glass.

"Hey, you!"

The voice, so ridiculous in its accent, froze Milly for a split second. Her heart lurched in her chest, giving off the impression of death-like stillness. Milly forced herself to throw her body into the window once again, but it still wouldn't give. In fact, it seemed to cave in TOWARDS her, as if taunting her weakness.

Then, all at once, the window grew farther away. A vice-like grip locked itself around Milly's waist and jerked her across the wooden floor, leaving her feet to drag with no traction whatsoever. A voice boomed through the air, shaking her soul to the core. No comprehensibility remained, for in Milly's mind, the voice belonged to none other than the Grim Reaper herself.

Milly reached down, and in one swift movement, broke the guard's pinky. Immediately, his grip crumpled, and Milly broke free from his grasp. She wasted no time in putting some distance between them, sprinting a short distance away and turning around. The guard was clutching his finger to his chest, clearly gritting his teeth as he panted through the pain.

All of a sudden, the door burst open once again. Two more guards rushed in, swords drawn and ready to taste blood. Her blood. They took one look at her and decided that they must spill it. They charged in, crossing half the distance to her in a split second.

One second, Milly was priming herself to defend her very life. The next, all was still. No guards, no chaos, no fighting, just deathly silence. Unknown to Milly, her breathing was calm, her heart slow and steady as she regained her bearings. On further investigation, the guards had not disappeared, they were simply… on the floor?

Milly crouched down and checked the nearest guard's pulse. She sighed in relief once she felt fluttering underneath her fingertips. Not dead. Wait, why would they be dead? She didn't even do anything, did she? Milly swallowed the lump in her throat and stood to face the… broken window?

The window was completely broken, slats and all. Not a single shard of glass remained in the window. Instead, there was a smattering of broken glass around the window, with a few pieces of wood to emphasize the mess. Milly carefully stepped over the glass and approached the window. She swung her leg onto the windowsill, then her other, and began her slow descent down.

\-----

It was surprisingly difficult to find her target, as Clara noted. Normally, when things were this quiet, she would have no trouble finding heartbeats and the people they belonged to, but it was as if she was walking in a ghost town. After that… bizarre feeling that everyone and their mother seemed to get, a blanket of light paranoia and fear draped over the town, or at least part of it. Clara had to constantly fight against the instinct to run away in order to even take a few steps forward. These feelings only intensified the more she pushed into the 'dead zone' as Clara referred to it, for she couldn't hear even a single heartbeat in this area.

The reason Clara was even bothering to try and enter the dead zone was that her target, Milly if she remembered correctly, was a witch (that is, if rumor was to be believed). If all of this was her doing, then she's almost certainly in the dead zone. Why else would things be so off? It must be magic, it has to be.

Clara leapt onto a rooftop and scanned the area. A few blocks away, she saw the blinding sheen of gaudy armor. To her right, an old woman in a blue shawl and a red and gray dress rummaged through the garbage. Nothing special about her. To her left, nothing of note.

Clara glanced once again to the old lady, who had stopped rifling through the trash and stood up straight. The lady checked over her shoulder, then she looked up to the rooftops. She froze when she looked in Clara's direction. At once, Clara felt an iron fist clamp down on her very soul. It locked her feet in place and bound her arms to her sides. Try as she might, she could not even swallow back the foreign feeling in her mouth, for her throat would not cooperate with her.

The old woman looked away, and just like that it was all over. Clara was free to breathe again. She slumped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, completely and utterly drained of her vampiric strength. She couldn't think, couldn't even open her eyes. All she could do was rest. By the time she recovered enough to sit up, the old woman was long gone.


	36. Chapter 36

Marlene lifted her skirt with one hand and stepped around the muddy spots. She stumbled on a loose stone, but regained her balance before she fell. She scoffed at the shitty infrastructure before joining Barnabas-Basil at the stands.

"Have you- have you- have you found… anything good?" Marlene stuttered, tongue clumsy from disuse.

Barnabas-Basil sighed. "There is a problem. No one seems to be selling anything."

"We're in the- the… marketplace, rrrright?"

"Yes, but we seem to be the only souls here."

"Holi- holiday?" Marlene suggested.

"I don't believe so. I would have known otherwise." Barnabas looked around. "I will go knock on some doors and try to figure out why everyone seems to be gone. You stay here, see if anyone comes by."

Marlene nodded. She watched as Barnabas walked up to a door, then she sat on a conveniently located crate. She exhaled as she leaned her back on the wall, resting her hand on a barrel. To her right, several crates blocked off a dark alleyway, although one could easily sidestep them if they bothered. Marlene lifted one leg onto them and rested. She looked down the alleyway again and saw someone shuffling around the corner.

Marlene waved at the shadowy figure. After a moment's hesitation, they waved back. Then, they approached Marlene, stepping out of the shadows. It was an old woman, with a blue shawl wrapped around her head, shoulders, and chest. She wore a gray dress with crimson dye covering the top half. Her face held several wrinkles, circling around her snub nose and blue eyes.

"Hi." Said the stranger once she was standing next to Marlene.

Marlene smiled, waving her hand.

"Lovely weather, isn't it?" The old lady commented, glancing at the sky. "Nice and cloudy, just how I like it."

"Yes." Marlene nodded. "Very- very- very nice."

"Hey, have you noticed how everyone seems to be afraid of everything right now?" The old woman sat on a crate as she spoke, avoiding Marlene's leg.

"Just- just got- just got here."

"Really?"

"Yes."

The old woman sighed. "This'es been going on for at least an hour. Guards won't let me outta the city."

"But they- they let and… and my friend… in."

"Really?!" The old woman half-shouted. She coughed into her fist, attempting to regain some sense of composure. However, something was off about it, something Marlene could not put her finger on. She decided not to bring it up. "I mean, really? How'd you do it?"

"Just walked in." Marlene explained without stuttering.

"And they just-"

"Yep."

The old woman stared blankly for a few seconds, then she huffed, crossed her arms, and looked away. "Ugh, kids these days!"

"What- what about them?" Marlene took her leg off the crates and let it dangle with its counterpart.

"Uh, you know! They never respect their elders, and they're always inconsistent!"

Marlene had no idea what she was talking about, so she just nodded.

"And they're, uh, they're troublemakers, all of them! Just the other day some whippersnappers were playing outside my home!"

"What's- what's so- so bad about… that?"

"They could have ruined my beautiful cauliflowers! Why, I put so much work into them! If I find out they ripped off one petal from those flowers, I'll-!"

Marlene's brows furrowed. She scoot around to fully face the old woman. "Wait, cauli- cauliflower?"

"Uh, yeah?" The old woman confirmed.

"Cauliflower."

"Yeah."

"You plant- plant cauliflower like floral- floral flowers?" Marlene asked.

The old woman froze. For a minute, Marlene thought she was going to start foaming at the mouth and screaming about how she should mind her own business, but nothing happened. She just stood there and frantically darted her eyes around.

"Hel- hello?" Marlene waved her hand in front of the old woman's face. She garnered no reaction. She drew her hand away. "You-"

There was a flash, with the distinct smell of ozone, and then there was a fist in her face. Marlene toppled over, falling to her side as pain blossomed in her cheek. She groaned as she pushed herself back up, cupping her cheek with care.

"What the fuck?" Marlene shouted, shooting back into her original position. "Fucking- huh?"

Where the old woman once stood, there was only a shallow set of footprints. There was some light scuffling around, but other than that, there was no trace of the woman. Marlene glanced around, then returned to stare at the tracks.

"The fuck…?"

\-----

Milly panted as she slumped against the ground, utterly exhausted. She cautiously looked around. When she found no potential threats, she dropped her newfound shawl to the filthy cobblestones and laid down on it. She had no idea where she was anymore, but she didn't care. She just wanted to rest, and then get out of town before the guards caught up to her.

When Milly stopped feeling like she'd go into cardiac arrest if her heart beat any faster, she took a closer look at her surroundings. A single once-over was all it took for Milly to know what she needed to know. She was in the slums, far away from the docks if the air was any indication. The air reeked of rotten food and something so stale most could barely stand it, but Milly was used to far worse. To her, it smelled almost pleasant, like fresh fish to a starving man.

Milly propped herself up on her elbows. She saw that the slums held a few brave souls, just coming out of whatever holes they were hiding in. Huh. So whatever happened to everyone was starting to wear off. Milly took note of that as she crawled further into the shadows, seeking cover in their embrace.

Milly had no idea when she nodded off. But when she woke up, she found herself in the arms of a stranger. Exhaustion overtook her once again, forcing her to close her eyes. The last thing she saw was cavern walls decorated with strange emblems.


End file.
